ZUTARA: The Tim Burton Collection
by Mer3Girl
Summary: A series of one shots consisting of the pairing Zuko & Katara written along scenes from the surreal beauty that are Tim Burton films. You are welcome to suggest a scene! Set in the Avatar universe. Rated T for mild language, if any.
1. Sleepy Hollow

_**Author's Note: **__Hey there! I've been working and planning on a mini-project consisting of Tim Burton movie scenes and Zutara on my spare time. So, I wanted to share and post!I've been in love with Burton movies, and I want to freshen my writing with this mini-project. I am still working on my other fic, False Guise, so no worries! _

___Hope you enjoy! I have some scenes in mind, but you are more than welcome to suggest a Burton scene! :)_

___~Much love_

___Disclaimer: I do not own Sleepy Hollow, or Zuko and Katara. Ta dah..  
_

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_**Zutara: Sleepy Hollow**_

_Movie Scene:_ Ichabod finds Katrina in a sitting room, reading a book as she sits on a lush sofa. He converses with her about such things as illusion and reality. Before he departs, she gives him a book as a gift, saying that he might need it more than she.

_Location (AtLA):_ Ember Island, Season 3

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A soothing, chilled spray of sea water caressed the aching pale limbs of a weary warrior. He exhaled with a gentle groan, his flesh drinking in the elixir waters. The nocturnal shades of the night sky were reflected by the calm waves of the ocean, contrasting beautifully with the exposed upper body; athletic lines creating slight shadow upon his abdomen and toned arms. Raven locks were brushed away from his Aztec gold irises, his fingers raking through his wet hair. A quiet soak in the sea was all that Prince Zuko requested of the spirits.

Well…it was the second request of his day. The primary, however, was something much more everlasting…something almost unachievable.

Ever since the recent bonding between him and the waterbending maiden, Katara, he could not seem dismiss thoughts and images of her soft, café au lait visage from his mind. Her warm, curved body colliding with his own in an unexpected embrace. The infernal prince could not recall such affection from all his years of venturing throughout the seas, thirsting for respect…for honor.

Perhaps, he had been searching in all the wrong places. Zuko would have never guessed that the warmth and acceptance of another lay in the arms of a spirited young lady with rich, waved locks, and eyes rivaling the many jewels hidden beneath the sea.

He rubbed his sealed eyelids with his palms, attempting to erase her face from his mind's eye. The bathing persisted for a while longer, ending with the nude prince walking out of the ocean in long strides. A large sheet of beige cloth had awaited his moist body as it hung from a wooden barrier meant to conceal carnal secrecies from peering eyes. He grabbed the sheet, drying off his body and hair of the remnants of salt water.

Atop the sand was a pile of clothes made of black silk, lined with gold trimmings. Slipping on silk pants that stopped at his calves, Zuko collected both the sheet and his sleeveless shirt in his large hand, ready to begin his short journey back to the beach house where his new comrades resided.

Opening a built-in door of the wooden barrier, he strolled across the sands, rather pleased with the feeling of warm sand brushing over his bare feet. It was probable that none of the other youths were awake, given the fact that it was quite late into the nocturnal hours. However, once the beach house was in full view, he captured the sight of a gentle glow from an open window that danced in hues of orange crème and pale goldenrod.

"Hmm?" he absentmindedly hummed, a thick black eyebrow cocked upward.

'Someone's still up…or just forgot to blow out the candles. Hopefully, it's not the latter. I specifically said that candles must be blown out before leaving a room..' He quickened his pace, pulling the black silk sleeveless shirt over his arms, one at a time. The richly embellished double doors soon came into view, his pale hand pushing one of the doors forward.

Silently closing the door behind his athletic frame, Zuko made his way toward a nearby staircase. He could sense the chill of the floors piercing the flesh beneath his feet. He buttoned the front of his shirt as he escalated the maroon carpeted steps, turning right at the top of the staircase.

Down the shaded hallway he went, the prince seeking out the source of the illuminated room. His feet were quite skilled in remaining silent; a trait very beneficial for wounding his enemies in surprise.

Step…Step…Step…

Zuko had ceased his footsteps at the door frame, the door itself wide open. Inhaling through his nostrils, the raven locked young man peered into the room, only his head visible to the unknown visitor.

"Do you normally spy on people this late at night?" inquired a hushed soprano voice.

Azure irises were encountered by a golden pair as Katara raised her head, unraveled scrolls sprawled on the table before her.

"Katara…" Zuko spoke, his voice softened ever so slightly in her presence. "I, uh…didn't know it was you. I saw the candle lights on."

"Oh. I'm sorry if they bothered you.." she averted her eyes, bashful of the possibility of disturbing his sleep.

"No, not at all.." he assured, stepping into the room that was arranged for reading books and scrolls. "As for your question: No, I don't normally spy on people unless they are a threat to me. You are, what, half my height? I don't think you'll be too troublesome."

He smirked, his impish ways evoking a slight flush of the waterbending maiden's cocoa cheeks. In response, she crossed her arms before her bosom, tilting her head downward as her eyes gazed up at the proud prince.

"I wouldn't retain that judgment, if I were you," she partially smiled, secretly enjoying a little banter.

He appreciated her fearless wit, a smirk still implanted upon his face as he made his way to sit beside the young lady.

The room itself possessed a tranquil atmosphere as it was bathed in candle lights. The table, where Katara was seated, was polished cherrywood; violet and maroon satin pillows settled on each side for seating. A small gathering of pearl white candles sat atop the table, bestowing a gentle glow onto the scrolls.

The wooden framed sliding windows had been previously pushed outward. The hushed whispers of the flailing ocean could be heard, a natural remedy for one's incessant insomnia. On one side of the window stood a bookcase, books and copper statuettes of dragons adorning the shelves. The opposing side consisted of an extravagant, scarlet chest with golden grapevine décor framing the edges. Inside of this chest lay collections of scrolls, recounting tales of both history and entertaining folklore stories.

To gaze upon Katara's luminescent countenance brought a tickling flutter in the infernal prince's stomach. He found her loving nature to be strange. It was so foreign to him. She was nothing like the young women of his nation: ill mannered, selfish, impure. Katara was not characteristic of such things. She was gentle, righteous, empathic…lovely.

He simply had to learn more about her one day.

"So," Zuko ceased his glazed stare. "What are you reading, anyway?"

"I'm reading these tales of the Moon Princess, Yue. My brother was once very infatuated with her, you see," she tittered, holding her palm over her petal lips.

"Hmm," he smiled. "I think your brother is infatuated with any pretty girl he meets."

"True, true. Anyway, I somehow thought of her, and came into this reading room to look for any tales about her. These stories are just as charming as she was. She may be a fantasy, but something about that mystical nature of the moon brings her to life."

"Sometimes illusion can become a reality."

"What do you mean?" she asked, bewildered by Zuko's words.

From beneath his jagged onyx bangs, Zuko peacefully looked at the young lady before turning away. He sealed his eyelids, golden viewing orbs hidden away. In hushed words, he said:

"I want to show you something…Something my mother once showed me."

The room became silent as the prince deeply inhaled, releasing a heated breath into the humid air. He elongated his arm in front of him, his hand balled into a tightened fist. Seconds had deceased just before his hand opened, revealing a newborn flame dancing in his palm.

"What are you going to do with that?" Katara questioned, slightly unsettled by the flame.

"Nothing to worry about. Imagine yourself touching this flame right now. Tell me, what would happen?"

"My hand would burn to a crisp," she responded in a deadpan tone. "Zuko, that's a silly question."

"Not necessarily…"

He gingerly cradled the flame, bringing the infernal dancer over to the waterbending maiden. He was sure to hold his enflamed palm at a safe distance away from her clothes.

"Do you trust me?" he simply asked, his eyes dipping into her own aquatic hued pair.

"Yes, I do, but…Are you implying that you want me to..?"

"Yes."

"You're insane! I'm sorry, Zuko, but I won't touch that flame."

"Fine. Watch me, then.."

Quickly, Zuko unbuttoned the first two buttons of his silk shirt, exposing his thick neck. He then brought the flame to his neck, evoking a gasp from a startled Katara.

"Zuko, don't d-"

He was unharmed by the flame, a peaceful expression on his face.

"Oh my…Dear La.."

Nothing.

No singe of his flesh.

No marring embedded.

…Nothing.

"H-how did you..?" she was unable to finish her sentence out of shock.

"Because I intended it not to harm me."

He distanced his hand away from his neck, the flame still cradled within his palm.

"I was once told that a powerful firebender was not only one who could control vast amounts of flames, but one who could control its intensity. This intensity can be eased, even to the point where it will not harm the firebender or another person."

The waterbending maiden gazed in astonishment towards the flame. What he had said…was it all true?

"I find this...very difficult to believe…My gosh.."

"Now do you trust me?" he questioned once more, a crooked grin signifying his inner glee.

"…Um…Erm…I-I guess so."

She offered her hand hesitantly, her upper body squirming. The infernal prince accepted her delicate hand in his unoccupied palm. He withheld some air in his lungs, concentrating on his flame control. Once he exhaled through pursed lips, he gently brushed the flame over the back of her hand.  
Katara sealed her eyelids tightly, her teeth grinding in tension.

She did not feel anything. She felt…fine.

One eye was opened to peer at the pirouetting flame licking her hand. Like Zuko, she was unharmed.

"Amazing.." she gasped. "I-I never knew firebenders can do this."

Zuko chuckled deep in his throat.

"It's actually meant for entertainment. Fire is known for its destruction. However, to see it have no effect whatsoever is mind blowing. You are controlling its very nature. Firebenders are not known for patience, so they do not wish to learn such a thing. My mother had showed me this ability. I remember staring at her with such a shocked look…just like the one you gave."

The flame was distinguished before the waterbending maiden's eyes as Zuko curled his slim digits inward.

"I guess.." the young lady began, her nerves beginning to alleviate themselves. "..things aren't always what they seem to be."

She hummed pleasantly as she grinned to herself like a satisfied child.

"It's like magic," she commented.

"Exactly," he smiled, closing his eyes. "You are the only person I have showed this to."

"Am I? Why is that?" she inquired, crinkling her nose.

"You seem like the type of person who would appreciate this. I sense that you see things differently..like I do. Besides, I wanted to prove to you that I would never harm you…Ever."

Katara flushed, smiling at the handsome young man sitting beside her.

"You really are something, Prince Zuko," she smirked, cocking an eyebrow.

"So I've been told," he teased.

"Ego maniac.."

The pair of youths laughed to themselves, finding that they were now exchanging an intimate gaze. The manner in which the moonbeams bathed Zuko's visage brought shivers down Katara's spine. He became such a good friend to her after all this time. He had witnessed her at her worse moments. This connection between her and the prince seemed…surreal.

An invisible force seemed to draw in the youths closer together, inch by inch. Eyelids became heavy, vision glazed over as raven lashes fluttered. Lips moistened and plumped for the oncoming contact.

Just before their lips brushed up against one another, Zuko pulled away slightly. A hushed voice of reason from within advised that the time was not right for this intimacy. There was a dire battle approaching very soon, and to whisk this lovely young lady into a romance so soon was not proper.

He looked down to his lap, his cheeks flushed vibrantly.

"I-I should get some sleep. I'm sure you're tired as well."

"Sure.." she responded, silent disappointment dripping from her words. "We have training tomorrow."

"Right, right."

Ceasing to participate in this awkward moment, the infernal prince stood up from his seat, finger combing his disheveled obsidian strands. Katara was about to stand up as well until a pale hand was offered to her. She looked up, seeing that Zuko's bangs curtained his eyes. However, she could still sense warmth from him as she captured the sight of his thin , yet slightly plump, petal lips.

"Thank you.." she quietly bid gratitude, accepting his assistance by placing her small hand into his palm.

He helped her rise up from the satin pillow seat, his hand still holding her own. Reluctantly, he released his gentle hold of her hand.

"Well…goodnight, Katara."

"Goodnight, Zuko…Don't worry about the room; I will tidy up before I leave."

"That's alright. Leave for your bed, if you wish. Just blow out the candles."

"Sure…"

Zuko bid a partial smile before turning away to exit the reading room. Before he reached the open doorway, he felt a small hand implant itself onto his shoulder.

"Please, wait.." the waterbending maiden requested.

He turned around to face her, looking down at the shorter young lady with bemusement.

"Yes?"

"Um…I wanted to thank you..for showing that to me. I know that we are going to have to travel back to the Fire Nation very soon. So…I want to give you this."

Katara had untied her treasured family heirloom, the navy blue necklace with a Water Tribe insignia charm. Using her pearl teeth, she tore a small incision into the fabric, freeing the charm from its navy blue tether. In her hand, she cradled the charm, her eyes following the soft curves of the Water Tribe insignia.

"All my good fortune lies in this charm. I felt so lost without it hanging from my neck. However, now I feel stronger than ever before. I want to share this strength with you, so…I want you to have this for luck."

Taken aback by her bold gesture, Zuko was left speechless. He shook his head from east to west, deepening his gaze into her glistening azure eyes.

"Katara, that's thoughtful. This is your mother's, though. I don't know about taking this from you."

"Please…I wish to give this to you. Think of this as a good luck charm…from me."

She gently took hold of his hand, bringing it in front of her. Then, Katara placed the charm in his palm, closing his hand with her unoccupied hand. The touch lasted for a minute, the heat of their flesh melting into one another. Finally, Zuko spoke, his voice tender.

"Thank you…I promise that I will protect this..forever," he vowed, a serious tone in his voice.

A smile spread across her full lips, her heart beating just a tad faster.

"You're welcome…"

The pair of youths bid each other goodnight once more before Zuko had left to walk down the hall. Katara leaned her back against the doorframe, lowering her head of dark waved locks. The thick russet strands delicatelyframed her heart shaped face. Her raven lashes fluttered shut as she whispered a prayer to the humid, empty air.

"Please, protect him.."

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Read and Review! ~


	2. The Nightmare Before Christmas

_**Author's Note:**_ _Installation number 2! This is from "The Nightmare Before Christmas," one of my all time favorites. I will certainly try to write another once class work/job calms down. _

_Special thanks to **AnnaAza**: You're review was very kind! :)_

_Hope you all enjoy! Please review, hm? ;)_

_~Much love_

_Disclaimer: I do not own "The Nightmare Before Christmas;" it is a Burton film. I do not own characters from Avatar: the Last Airbender._

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_**Zutara: The Nightmare Before Christmas**_

_Movie Scene:_ Sally returns from delivering some goods for Jack, who is staying up late to work on his plans. She strolls around the town, saddened by the oncoming tragedy that will befall Jack. And yet, in actuality, this is not her only burden. She is depressed, feeling that Jack is too busy with his dreams and determination to notice her love for him. Sadly, she concludes that perhaps she is not "the one" for him.

_Location (AtLA):_ Ember Island, Season 3

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Off he goes again, emitting his need for solitude with not a word. Such a weight on his shoulders…must he truly bear them alone?

I had just finished assisting Zuko with some packing of armory and travel-friendly sustenance. Although he did not ask me to help him, I could not help but sense that he wished for someone to at least accompany him for a short span of time. He is so consumed with pride; he will never admit that he cannot always do something on his own.

And yet, Zuko did not protest when it was I that wished to be present beside him. Of course, I had to persist with my offer a couple of times before he quietly accepted with a crooked smile.  
As he was binding some weapons together with rope, I was occupying myself with a little nutritional mixture, encasing the goods in a small, brown leather pouch. Almonds for muscle strength, dried cranberries for their elixir juices, and dried slices of sweet bananas for energy. I had packed myself a similar mixture, knowing very well that the journey to the Fire Nation will require some physical revival now and then.

"I mixed up some nuts and dried fruit for you to take with you. It will keep your strength and energy up," I explained, presenting the filled leather pouch to Zuko.

"Oh..T-thank you," he bid his gratitude, his slight bashfulness rather charming. "You didn't have to pack me food."

"I insist. If we are leaving tomorrow, and you are going to battle with your own family, you might need something to keep you going."

"True," he murmured to himself.

A smirk then tugged at the corner of his lips. I had noticed the subtle expression in my peripheral vision. An eyebrow had cocked upward upon my face.

"What are you smirking about?"

"Hmm," he exhaled through his nostrils. "..Not too long ago, you would have told me something quite different."

Admittedly, I could recall a time when I seethed with hatred toward the Fire Nation prince. The animosity would seep through my pores, my vision blurring as if someone had placed a lace veil over my face.

Now, however, I held nothing but content and rekindled trust for Zuko. If anything, he was the last person I would have expected to mirror my inner pain…My pain for my mother's presence and warmth. This was an invisible scar that seemed to link us together emotionally, bringing us together like that of a single, silver thread attached to our index fingers, drawing us closer.

There was comfortable silence between him and I until the sun had descended ever so slowly into the powdery collection of clouds. I think there would be a full moon tonight, if I am correct. After traveling for so many months, I find myself experienced with the moon cycles. They are, in fact, very useful when I want to intensify my waterbending. The moon is the elixir to my people's passion; it is a gift from the spirits, Gran-Gran would tell me.

Excuse me…I tend to allow my mind to wander for a bit. Let me return to reality for now. Sometimes my mind prefers to be in the skies rather than in the seas, at times.

"I should leave you be. I'm sure you want some time alone," I spoke softly; I didn't wish to suffocate him with too much company.

"…If you don't mind..I just want some time alone to prepare," he responded truthfully in a calm manner, no malice whatsoever.

I nodded. I wanted nothing more than to respect his personal space. I bid him a smile just before I rose from the floor. Looking down upon him for a moment, a partial smile actually tugged at the corner of his thin, yet plump lips. His eyes seemed to flicker with warmth in their liquid honey hues. Even the serpent slit of his burned scar narrowed with the genuine expression. You know, I cannot help but wonder if he is winking, or his damaged eyelids just happen to seal with his rare smiles. Either way-

Did my heart just skip a beat?

No, no, not in front of him!

I shook my head, dismissing the sudden palpitation. I do hope he didn't notice..

I escorted myself out of the bedroom that he occupied at night. I shut the door behind me out of respect for his privacy. I had nothing else to attend to; my chores and preparations were already set to go. I guess, for now, I can watch the sun set.

Exiting the beach house, I could see Sokka in the corner of my eye, touching up on his sword techniques in the training area of the property. Aang must have been somewhere else, settling his nerves. I certainly don't blame him; he is finally going to stare down his destiny. That in itself can twist one's stomach in a knot. As for Suki and Toph: not a clue, really. I'm sure they were just fine, readying themselves in their own manners.

I found myself walking toward a gathering of palm trees. Their lengthy olive leaves swayed with grace in the humid breeze. Such freedom they displayed, basked in. I chose one of their trunks to lean my back against for support. Gazing at the sinking sun and the rose quartz clouds, I allowed my mind to wander for a bit more in silence.

I did not know what to think of the upcoming battles. Of course, a part of me was terrified for my life. And yet…I can only process emotions, not thoughts, really.

Fear.

Anxiety.

Maybe hope?

I am not sure yet, to tell you the truth..

I am supposed to depart sometime tomorrow with Zuko. Everything was packed for the journey over seas. I'm more than ready to battle beside him, in unison with him. He was about to quarrel with his own blood ties. Imagine Sokka and I at each other's throats, trying to murder the other. How can one even conceive such things? Oh, Zuko..I don't approve of harming family, but your sister needs to be stopped. I will stand by you as long as I breathe.

Just…do not die. Please?

A morose chuckle reverberates within my throat. Once this is all over and done with, he'll have to return to his kingdom. He will eventually return to his previous life as a new man…a man with another woman waiting for him.

He did in fact say that he dismissed the relationship with Mai due to the current situations and all. However, does he still have feelings for her? Did he ever?

Did he ever see me in intimate ways…after what we've experienced together?

Dear spirits, I wish I knew..

Why can I not just remain neutral towards him? I once hated him! Now I…gosh, I won't think of it!

To see him grow and change. To see that imperfect face of his stretch in a smile. To feel his touch on my shoulder…his arms around my waist.

Zuko…I think I love you. It makes no sense at all. I mean, we come from different roots, different homes. How could things between us even prosper? Suddenly, I feel an urge to silence my rational mind. My heart…she must dream for tonight.

It is silly to think that if I happen to embrace my feelings towards him that he will magically mirror such emotions. I shake my head, the waves of my hair kissing my flushed cheeks.

My face was heated, and my breath was shallow, a heavy weight birthing within my bosom. I embraced myself around the torso, sealing my eyes shut. Warm tears welled, slipping through my lashes and cascading down my heated cheeks.

How much longer can I hold on to a dream? A fantasy? I feel selfish for silently wishing that he would remain by my side after the war. I cannot demand such a thing from him.

Perhaps…perhaps it is not meant to be, him and I.

The minutes passed on into the nocturnal skies. The shadows of the palm trees crawled up my limbs. The moon should have risen some massive odd number of feet behind me. Oh Yue...please, watch after me as I return to the beach house.

Walk me through it all, won't you?

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_R & R ~_


	3. The Corpse Bride

_**Author's Note:** Third installation is here! Finished it up earlier in one of the more boring lectures. So, I was productive in one way. :) These are truly fun to write when I have time! I hope Emily's sadness and selflessness was captured. I know Zuko's not exactly timid like Victor, but he is just as charming in an awkward way. 3_

_Thanks to **BroadwayKhaos **for the Corpse Bride suggestion! I hope you enjoy this piece! Thanks for you sweet words! _

**_AnaAza: _**_I'm glad the last piece was "aw" worthy! :) Thanks! Oh, I've been reading your "Acts of Kindness" fic; expect reviews! I'm liking it. :)_

**_KitKatNik: _**_Aww, thank you! I'm flattered by your words. I hope you continue to enjoy! Sweeney Todd just might be the next entry! ;)_

~Much love

**_

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_**_**Zutara: The Corpse Bride**_

_Movie Scene: __Victor fails miserably during the practice for the marriage ceremony. Accidently setting fire to Lady Everglot's dress, he runs out of the house, embarrassed by his lack of strong presence and confidence. He had barely known Victoria Everglot, and he was arranged to marry her in order to bring prosperity to his financially misfortunate family. Finding himself lost in a chilled forest, he recites the ceremony alone, placing the engagement ring on what appears to be a twig (substituting for a finger. Alas, he has "married" Emily, the corpse bride. _

_Location (AtLA): __Post Season 03. Zuko is now Fire Lord. _

_

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_"_Inconceivable!"_

"_Incredible!"_

"He has stumbled over the ceremony practice_.."_

"_..AGAIN!"_

Ah, the elderly twins, Li and Lo. One sister mirrored the other's pulsing vein upon their foreheads, terribly frustrated.

"Now," announced Li, rubbing her tired eyes, shadows forming within the deep indentations of her wrinkles. "Fire Lord Zuko…from the beginning."

"Again," added Lo, sarcastically.

The young lord sighed deeply, not wishing to repeat this ceremony rehearsal. It all just seemed monotonous and nerve-striking to the former prince of the Fire Nation. He was basically performing before an audience, and before his fiancé, Mai.

How did he end up here in front of this makeshift altar, a simple hand crafted table? It was not exactly comforting to have a pair of prehistoric old bats glaring you down. Even Mai seemed to be irritated. However, she stared off into the empty air out of boredom, sighing rather heavily every now and then. Never in his life had he silently wished for a random council meeting.

"Fine, fine.." he muttered, clearing his throat as he gently took possession of Mai's porcelain hand. "With your..Erm, with _this _hand, I will.."

The proper words had escaped him as he bit into his lower lip, his liquid honey eyes averting to the maroon carpet beneath his feet.

"_Lift..?_" growled Lo, her raspy voice hushed.

"Lift! I knew that, really I did," Zuko claimed, his eyes shifting from east to west in nervous tension.

"If you knew, then we would be finished here," Mai dryly commented, her countenance as plain as her voice.

"You're not helping," the young lord seethed through gritted teeth.

The disgruntled young man was able to regain a proper stance, clearing his throat.

"With this hand.." he began. "..I will lift…your hand?"

"Enough, enough!" shouted Lo, her withered hands colliding with the surface of the table, both the candle holder and chalice of wine shuddering.

"Just progress to the 'with this candle' line, Fire Lord Zuko," Li instructed, her aged eyes narrowing into serpent slits.

"The candle…" Zuko reiterated, his hand releasing its hold on Mai's, and elongating his arm to reach the already lit candle.

The wick of the scarlet candle had been incinerated far too many times this day. Solid tears of wax had framed the remainder of it, as well as adorning the golden candlestick. His slim digits had been wrapped around the candle, lifting it from its metal base. It was a little difficult, however, due to the bulky amount of wax clotting over the metal.

"Damn…thing!" he growled out of irritation as he forcefully wiggled the candle out of its imprisonment.

With a distinct "pop," the candle was set free, the young lord now returning to a proper stance before the tall and dreary young lady.

"Finally," he sighed deeply. "..Alright, with this candle..I will light your..Yooouuurrr.."

His rich tenor voice droned on, his hand slightly quivering, the tiny flame engaging in its own minuet as it basked in the thick air. The words, the words…why did these pesky words escape him every second possible? 'They're right there,' he thought. 'I know this, I should know this! "Your…I will light yo-"'

"Hey, are we late? Don't start the wedding yet!" interrupted a brash young man's voice, a warrior's wolf knot sitting atop his head.

"Will you be _quiet!_ I need my concentration!" the young lord yelled, his liquid honey eyes bulging.

Suddenly, a scent of ash and deteriorated cloth slithered its way up his nostrils. A shriek from the elderly twins pierced through his brain. When he had released his temper upon Sokka's arrival, the hand holding the candle had automatically been drawn away from Zuko in aggression. Unfortunately, this same hand had brought the flame to the polished table with a black and red cloth draped over it. The rest is rather obvious..

"My _goodness_!"

"Put it out! Put it out!"

Li and Lo flailed their limbs about in panic, nearly jumping away from the flames. Mai porcelain feature twitched before stepping back. A majority of the flames had been extracted from the young lord's firebending skills, the flickers conjured to unite with his calloused fingertips, swirling and curving.

The infamously ignorant Sokka remained standing within threshold of the doorway between the grand halls and the Fire Lord's throne room where the wedding rehearsal had been held. His wide eyes observed the prehistoric twins pat the damaged cloth and table with their flared black sleeves, birthing pothers smothering the once unpolluted air.

His fists quaking noticeably, Zuko's lips narrowed in a deep frown as he turned about, stomping his exit out of the throne room. '_Enough..!' _he shrieked within his throbbing mental chambers.

He simply dismissed the opposing calls of Li and Lo, demanding that he return to his former stance. His supposed fiancé huffed, and swiftly averted her onyx tressed head to face a nearby window. The warrior of the water tribe merely, scratched his head in bemusement, his gaze alternating between Zuko's dramatic exit and the disgruntled scene of an abandoned "altar."

"You know…For a hot head, he sure has some feet, no?"

None of the three ladies bothered to acknowledge the rather _lame_ remark.

_***Next Scene* **_

The heavy footsteps of the young lord reverberated along the grand hall's decorated surroundings. His mind was an uncontrollable freight train ready to crash wherever it may. 'Rehearsals…Petty! Why must I be driven away from my duties to recite some meaningless words? I am going to be married, not showcase myself as a performing batmonkey!'

Tearing the golden fire adornment out of his hair, unraveling the knot atop his head, Zuko found himself ceasing his stomping rampage once he reached the archway leading to the garden. This was the same garden that his mother would bring him to as a child.

The eternally flawless lady, her image crystalline within his mind, would recount tales and fables to entertain the young lad. Wise and pure, she observed him as he encountered hardships with his developing firebending skills. Her words and her touch were the only remedies to his anguish. And now she was no more.

Yet, the garden had always remained, her spirit embedded within the blades of the verdant patches and the blossoming trees.

Abandoning the royal adornments signifying his status, Zuko entered the garden, his previously accelerating heart easing in rhythm with the wind. His hair had lengthened over time ever since the end of the war. The midnight strands brushed over his pale cheekbones and jaw, like descending raven feathers caressing his skin. His lashes fluttered closed, tilting his head backward to fully inhale the sweet chilled air. This was peace.

"Zuko!"

His eyes open wide, Zuko scanned the garden for the source of the feminine voice. Advancing his footsteps toward where a turtleduck pond resided, he found a lovely girl with rich dark waves framing her round, café au lait face, returning his stare with a smile.

"Katara?"

"I see you remember my name," she teased.

The young lord smirked, settling himself beside the waterbender, who wore a periwinkle water tribe robe.

"You've come with your brother?" he asked.

"Yes. Sokka was a little..impatient..so I'm sorry if he's his usual 'energetic' self."

"It's no trouble. I actually should thank him."

A shapely eyebrow cocked upward on her face in confusion.

"Well.." Zuko began to elaborate. "..I was rehearsing for the wedding ceremony."

"Annddd I take it you were begging to get out of there?" she fathomed his reasons with just a simple look upon his tense features.

"You could say that."

The pair of youths sat in silence. For a moment, the onyx tressed young lord captured the sight of Katara gazing out at the turtleducklings swimming by. He had always thought the waterbending maiden to be rather breathtaking, even in his days as a ravenous, spoiled hunter. Her features were soft and circular, rivaling the moon goddess herself. Hey eyes, those thieved aquatic jewels, were what drew him deeply into a trance.

Golden irises were averted once Katara had noticed his prolonged stare. The young lord cleared his throat before composing a new topic of discussion.

"So, how was the journey here?"

"Uneventful, honestly," she sighed in a bored fashion, emphasizing her statement. "I'm still accustomed to chasing down missions that silence seems so…odd, you know?"

"I can understand…" he said with a partial smile.

Now it was Katara's turn to engage in a stare. Something about her dear friend was unsettling. The manner in which his jaw tensed, his black eyebrows furrowing; it all suggested a tale untold.

"Zuko.." said the waterbending maiden, her eyes now delving into the individual ripples of the pond. "..please tell me what ails you."

"I don't want to speak of it," he responded curtly.

"That only tells me that it is bothersome."

"I wouldn't even know how to even explain it, really."

"Try," she simply instructed him.

In his reluctance, Zuko spoke not a word for a moment or two. The phrases and sentences in his mind had partaken in a mental collision, evoking a throbbing ache within his head.

"I just…I don't…Just something about this wedding isn't right."

"I don't understand you. What isn't right?"

Her heart had suddenly palpitated. Could it be? No, no…She dismissed her selfish desires. This was about him, a friend. A friend that she silently wished to call her own.

"Before you arrived, I constantly forgot the ceremonial lines. Time after time, Li and Lo, even Mai, would glare and insult me. Katara, you know me not to be empty-headed."

She stifled a chuckle, biting her lower lip.

"Oh, quiet," he growled, which only encouraged her suppressed laughter even more. "Things keep going wrong, not just with this rehearsal, but with everything."

"Well…don't you love her?"

"….."

"Zuko."

"What.."

"Do you love her," she firmly reiterated, her gaze burning into his pupils.

"That's the thing….I don't know anymore. I have my duties, she remains here. She accuses me of neglecting her. I become weary every time this occurs. It is just not in me any longer. Katara, I…I'm just not sure about this wedding. I am not even the one who proposed. But the kingdom needs a Lady, that I understand."

She could not figure the appropriate answer for him. "_Leave her?" "Dismiss the wedding?""Just deal with it?" '_Please, no emotional toying,' she solemnly thought. 'Zuko, don't play with my heart strings…You know how much I hide from you.' The dark waved beauty could not deal with a possibly broken dream. He was to be married to someone else, not her..

"I think you are just stressed," she finally mustered to say. "Here, why don't we practice the rehearsal right here, with me."

"I highly doubt its stress," he argued.

"Well, just trust me with this. Practice doesn't hurt, right? I promise not to tease you," she declared as she rose from the grass, offering her hand as a gesture of trust.

The young lord merely gazed at the small, dainty hand offered to him. He had nothing else to lose. Support was all he had asked for. Comfort always seemed to birth in her hands alone, no one else's. Zuko would not mind her touch at all…Wait, what was he suggesting to himself? 'Her…?'

Taking a chance, he stood up, uniting his large pale hand with hers.

"Fine."

"Alright, then. Shall we begin? After you, of course."

"I know, I know," he mumbled, his cheeks slightly flushing.

He initiated the rehearsal with a proper stance, his feet shoulder width apart. Calmly exhaling, he spook in smooth, husky vocals.

"With this hand," he said, lifting up her mocha hand in his. "..I will lift your sorrows."

Zuko had bent over to the side to retrieve a fallen branch, substituting it for a candle.

"With this candle…I will light your way in darkness."

And then, the young lord's hand dove into his onyx and maroon robes, revealing the final ceremonial showpiece: a Fire Lady's crown of a golden flame. Katara's breath had been thieved from her aching lungs as Zuko knelt before her, gently placing the royal adornment in her hand.

"With this crown…I ask you to be mine.."

Perfection. Smooth as French vanilla crème, his words was alluring and untainted.

"I did it," he whispered, loud enough for the young lady to hear. "I was able to do it. I…I.."

His eyes were interlocked with azure glazed orbs, laced with thick raven lashes. Her petal lips were slightly parted; he listened to the gentle rhythm of her heated breath. Their positions had been frozen in place, the image itself charming.

A single word had threaded through his mind and body. One word was all that was required to settle his arterial treasure into a rightful place within its porcelain ribbed cage.

'_**Yes…'**_


	4. Edward Scissorhands

_**Author's Note: **I haven't updated this in sooooooo long. Uy. I wanted a break from my other Zutara fic ("False Guise"! Take a look!), so I dabbled with this. This piece is inspired by a scene from Edward Scissorhands. I know I previously had said that Sweeney Todd would come next, but in a review **Azrael Jinsei **had requested a piece from Scissorhands. I certainly did not wish to disappoint her, so here you are! It's been a while, but I truly hope you enjoy this piece Azrael! _

_Much much much love to all those who reviewed and gave me such lovely words! I'm so happy you like these bits of my Burton obsession! XD Hope you received my responses in your inboxes. _

_~Much love_

_

* * *

_

_**Zutara: Edward Scissorhands**_

_Movie Scene_: Looking through a window, Kim takes notice of a sudden snow fall. Snow was so rare to have in her neighborhood. It never snowed here! In a trance, she walks out of her home, and into the lovely storm. Edward had been trimming an ice sculpture of her feminine form, creating an impromptu snow fall. Dazzled, Kim sealed her eyelids, basking in the frozen delight, the ice diamonds glittering against her white gown.

_Location (AtLA):_ Ember Island, of course. Season 3.

* * *

The courtyard was a perfect place for a gathering. A few laughs and some drinks were just what the group of youths needed after a hard day of training.

After spending some time in the courtyard, everyone had dispersed, making their way to their bedrooms for well deserved rest. Two of the youths had remained, however. A young lady had been rolling up some parchments of maps and written out plans composed by her brother, Sokka. The young man would hand a couple of parchments to her here and there. She bid him thanks, still unaccustomed to the scarred one's change in humanity.

Katara had taken quite some time to forgive Zuko for his past deeds. Having been the first person to bestow trust upon him, she was the one to be burned the most by his betrayal soon after their intimate talk in the cave. Sooner or later, the former prince had returned, begging for forgiveness, and even offering himself up for slavery.

The waterbending maiden merely slashed him with water whips.

Determined, he would remain awake at night, awaiting her appearance in front of her tent. He went so far as to take her to the man that murdered her dear mother. Time and time again, Katara began to see his softer side. She began to see his hidden humility and shame alike. She began to see the monster he once was disperse into nothingness.

Staring upon the said young man, she sat down on the stone steps, somewhat coy to look at him.

"I, um…Wanted to thank you for helping us."

"Thank me? For what?" he questioned, sitting beside her, allowing some space to hover between them.

"For training Aang in his firebending. For helping my brother find my father. For…helping me deal with my own demons.." she spoke with pleasant gratitude, despite her timidity.

Zuko clearly did not know what to say. Someone was thanking _him_ of all people. He swallowed his bashfulness, covering up his own nervousness with a face of stern stone.

"It was the least I could do after all that I have done to you."

"…It means a lot to me, Zuko. I never would have expected myself thanking you, honestly," she tittered, a hand over her petal lips.

"Me neither, actually," he smirked, his tension easing.

The twosome had sat in silence, comfortable with each other's presence. The former prince did not wish for their silence to become an awkward sort. Raking his pale, slim fingers through his raven locks, he spoke of the first subject that had blossomed in his mind.

"Do you miss your home?"

She was taken aback by the unexpected, personal inquiry. Slightly frantic, the waterbending maiden fiddled with her thick waved locks.

"Everyday," she responded quietly, curious as to whether he could hear her lowered voice.

"What is it you miss most about it?"

There was a moment of silence before he took notice of how delicate his inquiry had been.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry and-"

"No, no, that's alright. Really," Katara assured the concerned young man. "Actually, to answer your question…there is something about my home that brings me to smile..something that takes away my worries over the war."

Raising his thick black eyebrows expectantly, Zuko awaited the telling of her secret joy.

"You see, when I was just a child, I would sometimes sneak out of the hut once my family were deep asleep. The reason why I did this was because of the snowfall. Yes, it is rather mundane and common for snow to fall during the day. However, at night…Oh my, it was pure beauty. I would carelessly dance in the snow. I used to pretend that snowflakes were actually falling stars coming down to say 'Hello.' I'd giggle, trying to capture as many as I could in my hands. They would melt away, though. Like jewels, I so, so wished I could lock one snowflake away, and keep it forever."

Gazing upon the peaceful expression of her café au lait visage, Zuko could not refrain himself from gently smiling as he listened to her dream-like recollection. In this state, with the silver moon beams bathing in her azure eyes, she was truly lovely.

Noticing his romantic self peeking through, the former prince hastily adjusted his countenance, the flushing of cheeks fading.

"Oh La, listen to me babble about silly childhood moments," she laughed nervously.

"No, it's not babble. You seemed very happy just now. I truly enjoyed it."

Zuko's honesty was warming to her heart, her small hand now setting atop her chest where the said arterial treasure resided.

"I wish I could bask in something like that," he commented. "But, I was…too consumed by something else."

Katara was well aware of what her comrade had referred to.

The last time he had been present in the winter gardens of her homeland, Zuko had attacked her tribe, grabbing her by the collar of her coat and threatening her people.

Having witnessed his genuine disgrace over this, and forgiven him of his past sins, the waterbending maiden selected her words wisely.

"You were a different person back then," she said, placing a hand onto his pale hand.

Looking away, Zuko lowered his voice to a mere whisper.

"I wish I could reverse time.."

"I know…Come on."

Katara rose from the stone steps, motioning for him to stand up as well.

"Let's not dwell on the past. For now, we should get some sleep."

"True."

Seizing the flames of the lanterns in his large palm, the young man escorted Katara back into the residence.

***Next Scene* **

Slumber refused to make an appearance.

Tossing and turning, he could not seem to find the proper position to lay still. He had been training most of the day; how could he possibly not fall asleep? Growling under his breath, Zuko finally ceased his tossing once on his side, facing the slightly ajar balcony doors.

An eyelid cracked open just a bit. It was enough to see tiny particles of white through the slight opening of the double doors. Golden eyes fluttered wide, unsure over what exactly these descending particles of white were.

"What in Agni..?" he rasped to himself, rubbing his eyes.

Throwing aside whatever sheets ribboned around his ankles and calves, Zuko left the bed slowly, a bone cracking or two. The pads of his feet scraped against the damp wooden floors. Once at the doors leading to the balcony, he forced them wide open.

Those same falling children of ice had dusted the floor of the balcony, glittering in the lovely milk beams of Yue, the goddess of the moon. Astonished, the young man's breath had caught in his throat. His mind absent, Zuko stepped forward into the strange miniature snow storm.

Tilting his head backward, Zuko had engaged in a kiss with the snowflakes, the ice diamonds melting against the heat of his soft lips.

So chilling, yet simultaneously enchanting in its cool kisses against his exposed flesh. Was this what Katara had been speaking of?

Figuring he was in solitude, the former prince reached out a hand to capture some flakes. For a mere second or two, he observed as the masterpiece of ice shards fade into his pale skin, forever embedded in his flesh. A subtle smile grazed his lips, his eyelids half hooded in simple joy.

He wished to look up to the skies, expecting the vast velvet heavens to be the source of this impossible event.

It wasn't from the skies.

His eyebrows furrowed, Zuko continued to seek out the storm from the skies. No…He turned around. It seemed that the snow was curved from above, a fountain of ice appearing to source from the roof.

"Wait, the roof?" he questioned aloud. "Absurd."

Determined, the young man leaped from his stance to grab onto the overhead ledge. He lifted his weight upward with a grunt. He had reached the maroon roof of the beach house. What he had met once there was certainly a surprise…

"Katara..?"

She gasped.

The snow came to a closing once her delicate hands had ceased its aquatic motions in the air. A water sac had been over her shoulder. Her eyes of blue had widened in fear, caught in the act.

She turned away, dashing.

"Katara, wait!" Zuko demanded.

Stopping in her rapid footsteps, she accepted the fact that she had been discovered. She refused to look at him, her arms crossed before her bosom.

"Katara, what are you..?"

"I just…I don't know, I just wanted to..make you smile."

Advancing in quiet footsteps, Zuko settled a hand on her shoulder, gently turning her around in order to view upon her flushed face. Timidly, she raised her eyes to look in his Aztec medallion irises, finding unexpected warmth.

"You did this for me?" he questioned, somewhat shocked.

"Well, yes," she answered, her voice soft and quiet. "I wanted you to feel what I once felt."

Words could not describe the very simple emotion birthing within his chest. She went out of her way to climb to the roof of the beach house, and create this impromptu small blizzard just for him to enjoy. He took notice of her embarrassment, and found himself embracing her petite body.

"Thank you," he whispered to her ear.

Katara's cheek had been nuzzled against his sleeveless black silk night shirt. He was so…warm. Zuko's body had felt like this entanglement of fire that seeped through her clothes, her skin, and into her veins, a shiver sent up her spine.

"Of course," she murmured into his chest, her arms snaking around his waist.

_FIN_


	5. Sweeney Todd

_**Author's Note: **Here's the Sweeney Todd installment of Zutara! Enjoy! Sorry it's a little short. _

_Next up: The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy (A Burton poerm), as requested by **Emma fried! **:) Poem requests are welcome too. I know I initially said that I'd write in terms of films, but, hey, I like the challenge! :D Besides, the poem is dreadully funny, I love it. That man can do no wrong. _

_Thank you so so much for all your beautiful reviews! Please, check your inboxes for my responses. I write back to everyone with a thank you and a personal message. _

_On with the show!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own any Tim Burton film, nor do I own characters and such from AtLA. _

_

* * *

__**Zutara:: Sweeney Todd**_

_Movie Scene:_ Sweeney Todd recalls his past at the attic window, caressing the blade with tenderness. Mrs. Lovitt, aching to console him, mutters to him that is not alone, and that she could also be his friend. Mr. Todd was too wrapped up in his revenge and past that he was not emotionally able to let her into his world. Sadly, in the end, he throws her into the fire, knowing that his fate was to be alone, and that anyone in his way would perish.

_AtLA Universe: _Season 02 finale. In the crystal caves of the Earth Kingdom. (Crossroads of Destiny)

There will be familiar lines from the episode in this story. I'm sure you'll recognize them! ;)

* * *

Imprisoned within the emerald cave, a pair of youths had been at odds: one seething with animosity; the other, silent and willing to receive misguided fury. However, the young woman's wrath ceased once the target of her anger, the banished prince, spoke of his loss.

"_That's something we have in common.."_

She knew not of what to say, wiping away her fresh tears. For years on end, she despised the prince's people, their ways, their traditions, their selfishness…Heathens! Damned creatures who gave birth to this damned war!

And here he was, Zuko, in the presence of a madwoman in sky blue robes, serving as the receiver. She felt awful, taking out her anger on someone who did not even know of her mother. Guilt had sunken deep within her bosom.

"I'm sorry," she apologized sincerely.

"Don't be. You have every right to loathe me."

"Look, I…," she sighed deeply, rubbing her eyes out of frustration. "Forgive me, I am just confused. For some time, whenever I would imagine the enemy, I would think of your face."

"My face…I see," he commented quietly.

"I don't mean it that way! I meant…with you chasing after my friends and I for the Avatar, for Aang, I just..became accustomed to seeing _you_."

Moments of silence passed before the banished prince raised his fingertips to his scar.

"You see this?" he motioned towards his scar, the pads of his fingers gingerly stroking the leather flesh. "This is my mark of banishment…of why I was exiled from my own kingdom."

He advanced a few steps closer to Katara, sure to leave enough personal distance between them.

"I refused to fight my father because of my speaking out for justice. I was more than frightened; I was just a boy then…defenseless. My mother vanished some time before then, and I longed for her. My father…he is the reason behind my misery, behind my mother's disappearance, and behind this Agni forsaken war. He left me _alone."_

Zuko turned away from facing the waterbending maiden, and, in long graceful strides, made his way to the crystal wall.

"The Avatar was my only option if I wished to return home. During the journey, I just became more and more loathsome and bitter…All I could think about was my parents and my own pathetic self-pity. I realized, ever since Uncle and I have been on the run, that I truly _hated_ the man that is my father. And now…"

He paused in speech as he gazed into a large piece of emerald crystal protruding from the wall. In the crystal, he could see a distorted reflection of himself, staring back at him with a narrow, liquid honey iris with healthy pale flesh framing the eye; and one serpent slit of an eye, burned skin tight and silky as a snake's body. The constant reminder of damaged goods..

"..my own hatred and fury are my only friends in this world. These friends, _my_ friends, that remain in my chest and in my head…snapping at my every action and poisoning my every thought. I am so accustomed to them, that even silence disturbs me, when they are absent.."

His words were a constant haunting lurking the chamber of her arterial treasure, her heart. A small palm implanted upon her chest, the waterbending maiden bit into her lower lip. The urge to dash towards him, and embrace him in her arms gnawed at her insides. The banished prince was his own poltergeist in this lingering life of his. Of course, this did not excuse his past actions and threats. Yet, his humanity had disarmed her.

Now, it was Katara's turn to advance her footsteps, and walked toward Zuko. He had not bothered to turn around. Placing a mocha hand on his broad shoulder, she turned him around gently, his scar the first thing to be captured by her azure encased vision.

"You don't have to be alone in this war…and I don't mean this war of the nations. I mean that you don't have to alone in this personal war of your own. Zuko…I can be you friend. Not a friend that whispers bitterness and abandons you, leaves you with nightmares of the remnants of a past that you wish would just perish. I suffer them too. I suffer nightmares of being too young to save my own mother. Had I been older enough to just..bend this monster of a man to his death, so that my mother would still be living! But, I couldn't."

Katara lowered her hand, shifting it soothing down to the center of his chest. The verdant silk and gold trimming of his robes were an exquisite contrast against her café au lait fleshed hand.

"Listen when I say..that I am your friend. I am here, now. Self-destructiveness is not the way to a redemption meant only to please yourself, not another…"

He was at a loss for words. His eyes were glazed over with emotion, yet he forced the warmth down his throat, stifling the emotion.

She began investigating the burn with her eyes alone, her hand retaining its gentle hold on his shoulder.

"It is a second degree burn, isn't it?" she questioned him.

"Yes…?" he responded with a rasp to his voice.

"I think I may be able to heal you.." she whispered as her fingers gingerly traced over the leather valley of his scar.

Surprisingly, he did not swat away her tiny hand. No one was permitted to touch the branding scar, save for a physician. He experienced difficulty in comprehending the sensation he felt when Katara touched the scar. Yes, she was gentle. Her fingers were soothingly chilled, the raw flesh delighted with the contact. Secure. Welcoming. Wanted. What were these odd emotions bubbling within Zuko's body?

As his raven lashes fluttered shut at her touch, Katara had retrieved a luminescent crystal container from her robes. It danced from the string it hung from, a crescent moon mounted upon the lid. Her deep sea irises glanced at the beauty, silently praying for its healing magic to exert onto the disintegrated skin.

"This is water from the Spirit Oasis at the North Pole. Its pure state possesses magical abilities beyond human imagination. I have been saving it for something dire. I'm not entirely sure if it can regenerate skin, but..it's worth a try."

She pulled her hand away from his face, cradling the jeweled beauty in her palms. Aztec irises revealed themselves as the banished prince opened his eyes, his vision now sharpening on the waterbending maiden, a lovely sight of an empathic, hopeful young lady. Something about her kindness disarmed Zuko, and he, to his surprise, wished for _more_ of her touch.

Before Katara could remove the lid, a violent explosion interjected their tender moment. Two figures emerged from the smoke and dust, advancing rapidly toward her and Zuko. Katara's eyes lit with joy at the sight of her dear friend.

"Aang!"

So close…So close, yet so far..to being healed. '_Damn you, boy..' _seethed the prince, as he was embraced by his uncle.

_***Next Scene* **_

He had made his choice.

He had made his choice, and he could not withdraw.

As his limbs flew with force, embers and infernal extensions clacking and sparking in the air, he could sense eyes striking into his being. A pair of eyes singed with betrayal and hurt, past the heavy emerald robes, and seeping deep into his pale flesh. He knew very well of this wrath..

"I thought you changed!" a soprano voice wailed, shaking the crystal walls.

Water and fire collided as the pair of benders quarreled from several feet away, their elements pouring through their hands.

"I _have_ changed!" Zuko responded, his will not so strong as he shouted these words.

He knew…_Ooohhh_, he knew.

How she could ever understand, though? She did was not possess a joint existence in his life, living his pain and anguish. She would never know.

Of course this reasoning was all in vain, all to soothe his own damaged will and conscious.

But…he had to do it. He had to betray her. It was necessary if he wished to face his father one last time. A precious moment only _he _and _he alone_ would savor.

To do that, he had to betray even the only person who intentionally wished to be by his side. To be _alone_.

With a whip of his muscular forearm, the banished prince ejected a wave of inferno in Katar's direction, her eyes wide with shock.

"_Why..?" _was all she could manage to utter.

**FIN**


	6. The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy

_**Installment: **The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy, a poem by TB, as requested by **DepressedUnicorn**! Sorry it took some time, sweetheart! Life stuff. :( Thanks for your patience! I hope you enjoy! :D_

_As for everyone else, sorry for the time in between updates. As I've stated in other fics (too many..x.x), I am currenty taking summer courses to lighten my workload for my senior year of college. So, updates will either be quick or not. Thank you so much for your patience and kind words! I truly appreciate it more than you know! _

**_Up Next: _**_Alice in Wonderland as requested by Z**ukoFan2005**! I'm hoping to, after that, write a piece on Batman for **Zuko Halliwell. **I am SO obsessed with Batman, it's not funny, haha! I'm thinking of a fic for Batman Beyond, actually. _

_Take care! _

_~Much love_

* * *

_**Zutara: Oyster Boy**_

_Poem by Tim Burton:_ A married couple, after several attempts to conceive, finally have a baby. However, this baby is an oyster! Over the years, the parents don't know how to deal with Oyster Boy. Eventually, their sex lives are dull. They seek professional advice, and are told by a doctor that oysters are the best aphrodisiac. The father speaks to Oyster Boy just before bedtime, and asks, "Have you ever thought of Heaven?" Sadly, Oyster Boy is eaten, a rather melancholy death.

_AtLA Universe: _Pre-Season 1, progressing into Season 1.

* * *

White hot agony singed deep into his flesh. This seemed to go on for an eternity. Damn, damn, _aahhhh…The sting_!

The prince had just suffered a third degree burn from one of his father's fire blasts. This was an Agni Kai he did not agree to. All because he voiced a differing opinion from one of his subjects, he was punished by his own father's hands. One would think a son was of more significance than someone _not_ of his bloodline. True, only the fire had scorched his left eye; but, it still sourced from those large pale hands. The Fire Lord might as well have used his bare fists and fingernails to derange Zuko's skin, deforming the once flawless porcelain flesh of the Fire Nation's prince.

"Ssss.." he seethed audibly.

Dear Agni, would he even be able to _see _from this eye again?

The royal physician, an elderly, detail-oriented man, had finished dressing the wound with bandages and a sterile cloth patch. He was as gentle as possible, not to further the prince's agony. Conversation was not welcomed by the young man. The physician was just fine with this. To be burned by one's own father? What is there to say to such a thing?

Zuko had requested solitude curtly. The physician bowed respectfully, leaving the prince's bedchamber in silence. The young man felt an urge to scream and weep simultaneously from anguish. However, he stifled it all. 'Do not show weakness..' he mentally demanded. Weary, he sluggishly climbed into bed, pulling the neatly made bed sheets over himself. Sure to lie on his back, the prince gazed up at the ceiling with his "good" eye, the glow of a coveted medallion still retained in its color.

Shuffles of heavy feet could be heard as someone entered the bedchamber. Zuko sneered, not in a mood to tolerate bothersome company.

"Leave me be," he spat, turning onto his side.

"Zuko.." purred a baritone voice. "..are you angry with me, my son?"

An unharmed eye widened, only to then narrow in disgust. He uttered not another word.

"Understand your punishment," his father, Fire Lord Ozai, began. "Disrespecting your father is a dire crime that a son must not commit. I demand respect, both as Lord and father, since I _deserve_ such treatment. You should be grateful that I did not slay you, Zuko. I wounding you was a gift."

Ozai strolled to the bed, his scarlet dress robes trailing luxuriously over the stone floor. He stopped beside the bed, Zuko's back facing him.

"Do you dream of the heavens, my son? Have you ever thought of death?"

No response from the prince.

"Well, comprehend that I can control whether you do see them, or not at all," Ozai chuckled darkly. "So, accept this other gift from me. How fortunate you are today. I banish you from this kingdom-"

"What?" Zuko shouted, shooting upward into a sitting position. "_Why!"_

"Do not interrupt me if you know what is good for you," the Fire Lord warned in a strict fashion, his eyes serpent slits of gold.

The prince was silenced, biting into his lower lip. Ozai began pacing, his long, elegant legs striding in sick arrogance.

"Now, as I was saying…You are hereby banished from this kingdom and the Fire Nation starting tomorrow morning at dawn. In the eyes of my people, you _have _no honor after such disrespectful actions. No one of such low value is permitted to be seen here. So, I have a proposition for you. Find the Avatar, and bring him to me. Then, and only then, will you be worthy to walk the same lands as _I_."

The Fire Lord leaned in closer to his son's flushed face, inches away. He smirked wickedly as he whispered one last sentence.

"Do I make myself clear?"

_***Next Scene* **_

She spat at his pale visage fearlessly, her refusal to reveal the location of the Avatar. The prince growled, a grimace deepening as his grip on the young lady's shoulders tightened.

"Damn woman!" he bickered, his face adorned with stress marks. "You watetribe peasants are pure _filth!_"

"You are one to talk," the waterbending maiden retorted, her blue lagoon eyes narrowed in animosity.

The pair retained an interlocked stare, each one bubbling with fury and disgust towards the other. The prince was free to manipulate, while the peasant had been tied to the tree.

"You listen to me, _peasant_…" Zuko began to whisper, inching his face closer to her own, metallic amber irises piercing through her stone cold demeanor. "Tell me of the Avatar's whereabouts, and I'll release you."

"In that case, you'll just have to bear my presence. I will never tell you where he is!"

"Fool!" he banged on the body of the tree, its skeletal limbs shivering. "Not even for your mother's necklace would you forfeit the Avatar?"

Katara was silent for a moment, averting her eyes in a somber manner.

"As much as I cherish my mother's necklace, it is not worth losing a dear friend over."

She stifled oncoming tears that threatened to plummet down her heated cheeks. Only a single tear managed to escape, falling along the curve of her mocha cheek. Zuko's fury had faltered a tad at the sight, his heart swelling. For a millisecond, the waterbending maiden took notice of the softening of his countenance, only to witness it return to the prince's characteristic scowl.

"Zuko.." she muttered, collecting her thoughts. "..What in La's name could have happened to you…to make you such a vile beast?"

The angst-ridden prince released the grip on her shoulders, his eyes drawn downward as he turned away from Katara. Sighing profusely into the damp island air, he shifted his head to the right, his profile aglow in the silver milk beams of the moon.

"You truly wish to know?" he spoke in monotones.

She nodded only once, bemused by this sudden change in behavior.

"Three years ago…I died."


	7. Alice in Wonderland

_**Author's Note: **Alice in Wonderland as requested by **Zukofan2005**! I hope you like it, sweetheart! :D _

_Thanks for the reviews! You're all lovely! _

_Up next: **Batman **for **Zuko Halliwell**. Does it matter which movie it is, or may I choose either one of the two that Burton made? Charlie and the Chocolate Factory sounds good, actually! I'll investigate, and see what I come up with for you, ZH! :3_

_~Much love_

* * *

_**Zutara: Alice in Wonderland**_

_Film_: Alice and the Mad Hatter chat intimately upon a balcony. The night of the slaying of the Jabberwakkie (spelling?) is approaching, and Alice reflects on her conflicting emotions and thoughts. The Mad Hatter is a figure of understanding and an inner content. The two relate on a spiritual and emotional level.

_AtLA Universe:_ Season 3.

* * *

Her foot had been set down; a decision was a decision, no way to dismiss it.

The usually tolerant monk had been close to tearing out his non-existent mane. Trying to reason with the waterbending young lady was like reasoning with a bull turtle: too damn stubborn to budge from its stance.

"This isn't right!" pleaded Aang, throwing out his hands in an exaggerated gesture. "Revenge isn't the answer!"

"My mind has been made up, Aang. I need to face this man…The man who murdered my mother deserves NO mercy. I have business to attend to.." Katara rationalized, even if it had been her emotions who were taking the reins.

"This had happened many years ago, Katara. It is in the past! You cannot change what has occurred. I know it's painful; I know these memories eat away at you. Revenge, however…It's absurd! You can't even out the score by harming this man!"

"How can you even say that? Don't you ever wish you could seek closure on the Fire Nation for slaughtering the rest of the airbenders! Huh?"

The small monk turned away, his earthen hued eyes shifting toward the verdant fields.

"Can't answer me, now can you? Hypocrisy…You won't admit to such things. La knows I do."

The waterbending maiden left the argument to perish as she turned to leave. The gang had been nearby, busying themselves as to not appear to be listening in on the argument (in Toph's case, she was shameless for obvious reasons). The frenzy of emotions and thoughts collided within Katara's mind, only to be penetrated by Aang's last statement.

"You're crazy for this, Katara! _**Mad,**_ I say!"

She merely dismissed his rant. 'Mad or not..this is my choice, and I stand by it.' Her small fists balled at her sides, her heart swelling with anguish towards the situation and the fight with one of her dearest friends. A pondering inquiry managed to peak through her mind, an inquiry she did not wish to pay any mind. 'What's _becoming_ of me?'

_***Next Scene* **_

It was about mid-afternoon. Katara had been seated on a hill for some time, facing the rippling waves of the ocean. No one had sought her out; her actions had made it clear that she did not wish to be bothered. Solitude was necessary before embarking on the search for the man who killed her mother. No conversation. No menial chores. No false face to wear. Nothing.

How was she going to settle the pain she had nursed for so long? To face this man. She knew not of who or where he was now. Was he still as cruel as he was? Was he just as menacing as she recalled, a small child shivering in his domineering presence? Of course, she was now a grown young lady. However, the memory…a part of her was still frightened. If it was not her fear she had been struggling with, it was her fury that would shortly take its place. Too confusing. Too burdensome.

Resting her weary head upon her raised knees, Katara silently prayed for peace. Yet, it seemed so difficult to achieve it whenever she would envision that stern ugly visage. These memories were a haunting that never left her side. The anger would flourish, and then take over her senses like a manipulative puppet master. She could not deal with this anymore! Not another day, not another year!

"Katara."

A moment of silence preceded a half-hearted response from the waterbending maiden.

"What do you want?"

The keeper of the velvet raspy voice sat beside her, the plush grass crunching beneath his weight. Zuko made sure to keep a respectful distance between them, both emotionally and geographically.

"I want nothing," he calmly told her.

He stretched out his long legs before him, leaning on his elbows for support. A tiger-hawk flew by gracefully, its majestic orange and black as night wings clashing beautifully with the calm shades of the afternoon skies.

"Do you remember what time we depart tonight?"

"..How can I forget?" she smiled morbidly, avoiding eye contact as to conceal her vulnerability.

"Why the sudden change in attitude? You seemed so focused and aggressive about this mission this morning."

Late into the previous nocturnal hours, Zuko had positioned himself before Katara's tent, sitting upon a large stone, awaiting her appearance. Earlier that night, she had walked off from the camp fire in a huff, only to quarrel with the prince who had followed her. Her words stung him like jagged knives; she spoke harsh truths without even batting her eyes. He simply _had _to redeem himself. 'I usually don't care about what people think. However…her opinion of me matters, for some odd reason! For Agni's sake, have I become _that_ soft? What has this woman done to me..?'

He knew of her anguish towards her deceased mother. Sokka, her elder brother, had recounted to him the very story behind this fury. It was not complete, but it was enough to assist him in composing a plan to aid her, and gain her trust once more.

So, he offered a proposition to seek out the man who murdered her mother. She acceded immediately, her thirst for vengeance, for the man's blood spilled just as her mother's blood was, almost insatiable.

The young lady that sat near Zuko appeared different from the one who was so cold in manners these past few days.

"I don't know," she managed to answer, stifling a tear or two. "I just feel...empty. I'm not so sure what I want anymore. I thought I _knew _what I had to do: seek this terrible man out. And yet, knowing that tonight will be the night to end it all, it leaves me feeling almost foreign in my own skin. Do I really wish to see this man? Will the pain even go away? I don't know.."

"You are not supposed to know," spoke the prince with the raven locks. "If you knew, then this wouldn't be so trivial, these emotions and such."

Katara partially smiled, astonished by his words of wisdom.

"Where did you come up with that?" she asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, a small smile enchanting his plump lips.

"I've been thinking a lot lately; contemplating my own past issues. I've only _grasped _a small inkling as to what I need to do in life. Who am I to tell you what _you_ must do? If you wish to confront this man, so be it. As I promised, I'll help you find him."

"…You don't judge me. Why?" she simply inquired, her gaze shifting to the ocean.

Even the violent crashing of the ocean waves seemed to comprehend Katara, the motion reflecting the battle between her mind and her heart.

Zuko withheld a response for about a minute before answering.

"I don't judge because I don't wish to be judged. Sounds menial, but it's true."

Finally, Katara's eyes grazed over his face, a porcelain visage of an elegant vampire. His golden irises took notice, meeting a pair of sapphire gems staring at him. The interlocked stare birthed a warmth within their bodies, a spiritual connection amongst them. She smiled at him, grateful for someone to brave her emotional barriers and actually_ listen_ to her.

"Hmm," she hummed. "Do you think I'm mad for wanting to search lands upon lands just to look this man in the eyes?"

Zuko smirked, shaking his head.

"I'd do the same if I were you. Do you think _I'm _mad?"

"Of course!" she shouted with a wide grin, no hesitation.

What an accomplishment: Katara had managed to make the crown prince of the Fire Nation laugh! Well…it was a _gentle_ laugh, but a laugh is a laugh, no? The pair of youths shared a chuckle. To think, they had been shouting with fury the other night.

Zuko stood up from the grass, a bone or two crackling in his legs. Reaching out a hand to the young lady with the wild russet waves, he motioned with his head for her to join him in his return to the camp site. Katara accepted his act of old-world gentility, and took hold of his hand. As she rose from the grass, the prince had spoken of a revelation that was quite amusing, yet truthful.

"Perhaps, we're _all _mad."


	8. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

**_Author's Note: _**_Ho-kay...I know I said the next installment would be Batman, but...I don't know, Charlie and the Chocolate factory called to me! I'm still trying to figure how exactly I'm going to incorporate the Batman film into the Avatar universe. Blue Spirit, of course, but how will he meet Katara? Thinking...Thinking.._

_Anyway, here is Charlie and the Chocolate Factory for **Zuko Halliwell**! The Batman installment is also for her/him (sorry, I'm not sure! o.o), which will come next. I truly hope you enjoy, hun! I've actually had this done for a while, I just felt like it wasnt **just** right. Perfectionism is maddening. -_-; _

_Thanks for waiting! My classes are going well, as well as other such things. Hope you are all well. _

_Thanks for reading and reviewing! :D_

_~Much love_

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own AtLA characters, nor the familiar lines from the show. I looked up the transcript to get a better idea of what I wanted to do. You'll see that I tweaked things here and there, so it won't be like the episode EXACTLY. I don't own Charlie and the Chocolate factory. _

* * *

_**Zutara: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory**_

_Film:_ Wonka experiences flashbacks of his corrupted childhood when reminded of his father. He falls into a stupor, and appears to be in a state of panic. Charlie, the young, yet very wise, boy attempts to snap Wonka out of his stupor, and encourages him to face his past concerning his father.

_AtLA Universe:_ Season 3, the Sozin's Comet episodes

* * *

"Look, everyone!"

A cheerful Katara came bustling about from the beach house. It appeared that she had been holding an old scroll in her small fist. The group of youths had shifted their heads in unison to see what had tickled her fancy so much. Toph's milky glazed eyes widened, a wide grin spreading upon her sweet, pale features.

"I knew it! You had a secret affair with Haru!"

Katara's sudden glee had withered, her cheeks flushing at such a notion. The rest of the youths had stared dumbfounded at the small girl's accusation. One of them, a slender and pale prince, had averted his eyes, a slight vexation causing a twitch of his black eyebrow.

The waterbending maiden merely shook her head, dismissing Toph's outburst. Sure, Haru had been a handsome young man, but her connection with him was of a more familial sort, not romantic. Continuing with her announcement, she unveiled the rolled up scroll, and presented a painted portrait of a plump infant playing in the warm sand.

"I was looking for pots, but instead found this! It's baby Zuko! Isn't he so precious?" she cooed lovingly, her twinkling eyes staring at the disgruntled young man.

The gang had all gushed teasingly at the portrait. Zuko had sealed his eyes shut, however. He knew that it was not he in that portrait. The mere knowledge of who this infant would become evoked a pain in his chest. His breath became shallow and quick. Closing his eyes assisted him in retaining a stiff expression. 'No, they cannot see…They cannot know of what's inside me.'

Reclaim a steady breath. Push away the haunting images and thoughts.

Katara noticed the tension in Zuko's visage, smirking at what she perceived was his annoyance.

"Oh, lighten up," she said, waving her hand. "I was just teasing."

The young man opened his eyes, golden irises solemnly meeting an azure pair. If only she knew of the torment birthing in his tight chest.

"That's not me," he rasped. "It's…my, uh…"

He struggled with his words, the others staring at him to finish the uncomplicated sentence.

"..It's my father."

_***Next Scene***_

The young monk had dismissed himself, unabashed by his temper. He had been conflicted between stopping the Fire Lord from destroying the world, and seeking out a way to NOT take his life. As horrid as the man was, Aang did not feel just in taking away a human life. The group had allowed him to walk away, particularly Zuko, who voiced the suggestion to leave him be. However, the prince could not deter from a certain thought: 'If _you_ won't kill him, I would _love _to.'

Alas, it was not his place, or his destiny, to stop the Fire Lord. This situation was not about him and his inner demons, gnawing away at his innards when unwanted memories crept through consciousness. The yelling, the shame, the pain…

"No," he spat out, his breath beginning to quicken once again.

Zuko had been alone at this moment, tucked away in his dark room. No candles were lit; only the pearl luminescence of Yue's gaze brightened a corner or two in the lonely bedchamber. Sitting atop his unmade bed, Zuko placed a large palm flat onto his chest, experiencing difficulty in breathing. Eyes shot open, teeth clenched, it felt as if his intestines were quarreling with their master. A wheezing had emitted from his open mouth.

Suddenly, a knock on his door sounded off.

"Zuko, you alright?"

It was Katara.

"I'm fine! T-trying to sleep here!" he shouted.

"Ok, ok. No need to get fussy.."

Her voice had been muffled, but he could still hear the aggravation in her tone. He did not intend to turn her away in such a manner. However, another state of mind was rapidly taking the reins, thieving him of sweet air.

A familiar pain clawed inside, flashes of his father's wicked face grinning a mad man's smile. Ironically, the cruel man donned a handsome face with porcelain flesh and fine features. And yet, his ways were hideous to even ponder about. Shamefully, Zuko had been born with similar facial features. Looking into a mirror was a nightmare because he could see a glimpse of his own father laughing at him.

"Go away…_Damnit.."_

Time for bed, my poor little prince..

_***Next Scene* **_

The next day, Aang was nowhere to be found. His bedroom was empty, and his gliding stick had been abandoned. Even Momo had gone missing. The youths panicked, trying to contemplate where exactly their dear friend had gone off to.

"Is he in the Spirit World? He has to be if he left without a word!" Sokka concluded.

"Then…wouldn't his body be here?" Zuko questioned in monotones.

"Oh..yeah, that. Heh..Ok, maybe he's not there," the lanky teen scratched his scalp.

The prince had devised a plan of action: travel to the Earth Kingdom. Without another word, he instructed the group to follow his lead. Sokka had questioned his plan, but he only assured him that he knew exactly what he was doing.

Arriving at a dusty tavern, the group of youths followed the prince into the bar area where a sort of competition took place. An unanticipated flying body collapsed before them; they flinched at the man's shout.

"What in La's name?" Katara shouted. "Why are we even here, Zuko? You better have a good explanation!"

"I do.." he merely said, pointing at a slender woman in the middle of the room. "Jun."

The woman, Jun, was a lone hunter, a scarlet tattoo embroidered on her shoulder. She had been arm-wrestling with a rather large gentleman. To the ignorant eye, it would seem that the slender woman would lose her lovely arm in this match. Fear not, for the hunter slammed the man's fist onto the pathetic wooden table, causing him to fall over and off of his chair. A sly grin grazed her dark red lips, taking a wooden cup of tea to her mouth as a victory shot.

"I don't know who this Jun lady is…but I like her," beamed Toph, pleasantly smiling.

The youths approached the woman, who lowered her cup, dark eyes looking up at them, emotionless. She seemed to recognize Zuko immediately, smirking to herself.

"Well, well. If it isn't the pouty prince…How's your creepy…grandpa or whoever he was?" her alto voice smoothed over the words like velvet.

"My uncle," Zuko corrected. "We need your help in finding someone."

_***Next Scene* **_

Jun was of no help, unfortunately. Judging from her mole's, Nyla, roundabouts, she concluded that the Avatar "didn't exist." What kind of nonsense is that? Instead, the prince had figured that another person would be of use to help defeat the Fire Lord: Uncle Iroh. In this case, another smell sample was needed. He fetched for his uncle's old sandal, the putrid scent rising into his flared nostrils.

Before attempting to find Iroh, Jun had requested a break (well, she _demanded) _for her enormous mole to have her meal.

"Without a proper feast, Nyla refuses to work. She reminds me of myself, actually..Except I prefer gold, personally."

The group of youths decided to grab a quick bite to eat and some tea in the tavern. Zuko remained outside, behind the tavern. He leaned his back against the brick wall, his arms crossed before his broad chest. The thought of his uncle brought a pang of regret. He missed the old man so dearly…Why did he not show him his gratitude when he had the chance? Iroh was the only one in his life, after his mother disappeared mysteriously, to pick him up from the cold ground. This was especially true when he was burned in that dire Agni Kai. A haunting, cinematic image blossomed in the depths of his mind. It was he, fourteen years of old, on his bony knees, pleading for mercy.

"_Father, please!" he wept, his hands flat on the ground beneath him. _

_Tears stained his flushed cheeks. Pure terror suffocated him. Was this the end? Would he perish in the flames of his father's fist? _

"_No…No! AAaaahh!"_

The Zuko of the present sank to his knees, his nails clawing at his temples. He clenched his teeth painfully, eyelids sealed shut. He growled, shaking his head of kohl silk.

"For Agni's sake, not… _now."_

"Zuko."

A soprano voice cut through his mental torture. He didn't dare seek out the source, as if his vulnerability would pour out through his golden eyes and plump lips.

"Zuko, what's wrong with you now?"

'Damn woman..' he thought to himself, trying his best to breathe.

Katara rapidly made her way to Zuko, and settling down onto her knees to meet his level. Her small hands shook his shoulders gently, alarmed at this sudden state. Sure, she would expect something out of the norm with Aang, but not Zuko.

"Please, tell me what's wrong?"

"Shut. Up!"

The waterbending maiden leaned back in shock, her face tensing into annoyance.

"Who are you to tell _me _to shut up?" she retorted. "I'm asking you what's wrong. If we're going to work as a team, then you have to trust me."

The prince slowly raised his head, his half-hooded eyes meeting her sharp gaze. Katara's eyes softened at the morbid look, the corners of his lips downturned while his irises were dull as rust.

"I'm not…_well _right now, ok?"

Katara's eyebrows rose upward, knowing very well that that was not the complete truth. She was waiting patiently.

"I'm dealing with some issues that I don't wish to recall right now."

She lowered her gaze respectfully, suckling in air to prepare for her next sentence.

"It's your father, isn't it?" she concluded.

She had plucked the correct raw nerve.

His eyes widened with shock, only to narrow with suspicions.

"Who told you? How do you know?" he interrogated.

"Calm down," Katara eased. "I can tell because I can feel it. Besides, it makes sense. We're close to the day where Aang and your father battle each other. I can only imagine how you feel."

"You _can't_ imagine it."

"I certainly can. You honestly think that I wanted fate to take care of that man who murdered my mother? No! I once wanted him at my hands, and _my_ hands alone. But, then I couldn't do it. You were there, Zuko. _You _told me that I should do what I have do, and leave it behind, whatever that may be."

"I'm not you, Katara," he said curtly, averting is eyes.

"Oh, don't play that game with me! You are just as capable of facing this as I-"

"This man _burned _me, Katara! _Branded _me as a pathetic insect! It's on my damn face every single day!"

His hands were thrown about in wild gestures, his eyes dilated. Although Katara was not frightened of him, she was rather startled at how much the prince resembled a caged wild animal. What in La's name was going through that boy's head?

She was silent for a moment, unsure of what to even say. Shaking her head of russet waves, the young lady looked deeply into those eyes, and said the only things she could muster up.

"Look…I can't erase this pain you hold onto. But…do you really want to keep holding on to it? Especially now? Zuko, it is the time to end your father's reign, once and for all. I know, I know, it's not simple to just put aside everything you bear. I still deal with left over anger over my mother's death. I have to take one step at a time. Everyday. Just one step…that's all you need. Or else..this pain will only hold you back from what you were meant to do."

He spoke not a word, retaining an intense gaze with Katara. Her words were true. The memories were the only things that held him down to this dirty ground. He suddenly felt shame for even succumbing to it. Shouldn't he be strong? Shouldn't he be proud enough to keep walking forward? Not too long ago, he could not even firebend; the numb state of mind was more prominent than his anger. It almost took away his one _talent_.

No...No more self-criticism. No focus on the past any longer. It solved nothing.

"If you cannot face him physically, then face him emotionally..on your own turf. It's the best you have right now."

Moments passed amongst them, the waterbender waiting patiently for any response from the prince. Finally, the agony on his face appeared to have melted away; slowly, but surely. His stare lowered down to his dirt dusted knees. A partial smile formed on his rosey lips.

"When did you become so tough?" he spoke quietly.

"You'd be surprised what a girl learns over a year. Besides, you helped me cross a bridge not too long ago. Now, it's my turn."

Her voice had been gentle, sweet. Strangely enough, ever since Katara had accepted him as a new being, she had grown fond of him. Of course, she would not admit that. Not now. Not when a war was occurring miles and miles away. What if this liking became something stronger?

No matter. As of now, the pair of youths had burned bridges together, staring in awe at the metaphorical flames of their past. The young lady sat beside the prince, hoping that he would not mind her company. He acceded very well, nonchalantly leaning his cheek onto her head.

The past burned ever so passionately, only to make way for a brighter future.


	9. Batman

_**Author's Note: **Ho-kay...cannot begin to tell you how many revisions this piece went through. I did not forget, as I have been working on it along with other fics of mine. This Batman piece was eithert too short, too long, didnt fit in show, etc. I hope this version is good enough! I personally love anything Batman, so this was special to me. Hope you enjoy! I know this is long compared to other entries, but this was what came forth. _

_Thank you to **Zuko Halliwell** for incredible patience! Hope you like this! _

_Next up: Another Burton poem, "Stick Boy and Match Girl," for **Just Nine **Letters. _

_I recently visited the Tim Burton exhibit in LA. Seriously...go see it if you can. Genius. I wanted to live in Zero's spiked dog house. XD_

_P.S.: To everyone in Hurricane Irene's way, please stay safe! You're in my prayers! _

_~Much love_

* * *

_**Zutara: Batman**_

_Film: __Batman is a vigilante, stopping crime in its tracks. He encounters a woman named Vicki Vale, whom he eventually develops a liking for. Towards the end, she is kidnapped by the Joker, a deranged man seeking revenge on the bat. Batman rescues her, but cannot delve further into a relationship. He finds both solace and difficulty in his alter ego. _

_AtLA Universe: Season _02. If anything is loose concerning the show, just go with the flow.

* * *

Limbs shaking from beneath, an old man quivers against a beige rock wall. Frightened to even meet the pairs of eyes belonging to his attackers, he stutters a plea.

"P-please..I don't ha-ave anymore mmmoney, so leave me be.."

A snicker was audible from the largest of the sinister group. Jagged black bangs covered his eyes, while a thick golden choker adorned his tan neck.

"No money, he says? What a pity...and here we wanted some coins to buy a round of drinks. You know..I'm not very charming when I don't get my fill, old man."

The large man threatened the elderly man with wicked words, his eyes sharp and violating like that of a serpent. Lifting the pathetic victim from the dirt, the large man slammed him against the wall, his fist balling the material of the poor man's robe. So this was how his drawn-out life would end, by the hands of a barbaric brute. Eyes sealed shut tightly, the old man turned his head away, praying silently that this would end quic-

Whi-_plash!_

Two of the other men shouted as their necks were drawn back by chains. The source was unseen, so the rest of the men darted their eyes about, startled immensely.

"What the-_Arrgghh_!"

The shouting man was drawn to another man, the twosome now bound together by a revolving chain. Once enveloped, the twosome was pulled off to the side, away from their leader.

"What? What is the meaning of this!" he demanded, heart racing as his men had just been hog-tied by an invisible force. "Damn spirits..They've come to seek me out for my sins!"

Dropping the old man to the floor, the lead brute brought his fists up in a fighter's stance, his black eyes attempting to find the horrid being in vain.

"Come out!"

Moments passed with silence. Anxiety birthed within the man's chest, acidic bile threatening to rise up his throat. In his peripheral vision, the lead brute caught a glimpse of a sleek black figure. The man's eyes widened as the black figure unsheathed twin blades, his face concealed by an extravagant mask.

"W-what in the world _are_ you? A phantom?" the man squeaked, balled fists beginning to shake.

Not a word spoken, the black figure pointed a blade toward the fallen old man, who was slumped in a fetal position. The lead brute extended his arms outward, open palms facing the black figure. His previously stiff-as-stone demeanor had crumbled to pathetic dust, lips quivering at the almost mythical being.

"I-I'm sorry, ok? I'll leave the old man alone, just don't hurt me!"

In a perceived playful manner, the black figure stomped one foot forward, causing the lead brute to run off in the opposite direction. Sheathing the twin blades swiftly, the black figure with a blue and white mask strolled over to the fallen old man, lengthy limbs rivaling that of a feline's elegance. The elderly man looked up with wide eyes, his arms embracing his bony frame. Initially, the mask had been startling. However, once he realized that this black figure had saved his life, the old man stared in awe.

"Thank you.." he breathed, rubbing his tired eyes for a few seconds. "Dear me, I could've been-"

Before the old man could finish his sentence, he opened his eyes to find that the black figure had disappeared. Out of thin air, it seemed! Choking on damp air, the old man slowly stood up, his knees wobbling with age. A thin hand was implanted upon the wall for support. He looked up, east, west…

Nothing.

"H-hello?" he called out. "…I truly _am_ getting _old_," he concluded, baffled by his own vision.

_***Next Scene* **_

"Did you hear? A phantom is among us!"

"A phantom, you say? Dear woman, you hit the bottle too much for your own good!"

"It is true! The stories are spreading like flies!"

The rustle and bustle of the Ba Sing Se marketplace had been striking today. A new story, new gossip; ahh, such simple joy, it was. The beloved waterbender and the whimsical earthbender had decided to venture out of their lush residence this early afternoon, growing tired of Sokka's nonsense.

"I swear, if I hear one more thing about his damn victory over cards, I'll..I'll..!"

"Toph, relax! It was just _one _time that he beat you."

"It was _my _game, Katara. _Mine!"_

Katara tittered over the young girl's wounded ego.

"Oh, no one likes a sore loser."

"Pff, ya think I care?"

The stands open for sale were the same as yesterday: jewel toned scarves, tender meat, and loose tea. Craving a nibble, Toph purchased marinated pork pierced through with a stick. She offered her friend a bite, but she politely declined.

"Good, more for me," the blind girl muttered, sinking her teeth into the tender meat.

The waterbending maiden's mind had drifted away for a moment. The young monk, her best friend, had been in distress over Appa's disappearance. He would drag his limbs, the corner of his lips downturned severely in a frown. A dear relative had been taken away, and a piece of Aang's heart had gone with the large flying bison.

Katara wished that she could heal his lingering depression. Her words were of no help, for the young monk would dismiss himself in a huff. 'Perhaps..a gift? It's not much, but it would be something, at least.' Two stands down stood a merchant, marketing jade charms and figurines. Jade was a stone known for its bountiful luck. Perhaps Aang would appreciate such a sentimental gift.

"Hey, wait for me!" Toph called out, following her friend as she advanced unexpectedly toward the merchant.

"Hello, ladies," greeted the merchant, who was a middle aged woman with long raven locks. "Can I interest you in some love charms?"

Toph laughed with amusement, a piece of meat still in her mouth. Katara shook her head, blushing slightly at the thought of love.

"N-No thank you, mam. Actually, I was wondering if you have something small and thoughtful? It's for a friend who's..um, going through a rough time at the moment."

"Oh. Poor thing, I'm sorry. Hmm..Allow me to scavenge for just the thing."

The merchant placed an index finger upon her rose petal lips, contemplating as her eyes scanned over the items.

"Now, is this friend a male?"

"Yes."

"Alright. Earrings would not be best…Ah!"

Her dark eyes lit with victory as she picked up a brown suede necklace, a small jade amulet hanging from it.

"How about this, my love? It is not too feminine, and the sparkle of the jade is rather eye-catching."

Katara inspected the necklace once it was given to her. She turned the jade amulet around between her mocha fingers, admiring the rich hue. Smiling to herself, the waterbender nodded, reaching in her robe for some coins.

"This will do just fine. Thank you."

"Hey, lady?" began Toph, throwing away the naked stick off to the side. "What's this I hear about some 'phantom' going around, huh?"

"A phantom? Aahh, so you have perking ears, I see. This 'phantom' is apparently sneaking around, wearing a strange mask, and saving poor folks in alleys. I mean, why would you even go into an alley? There's nothing precious there, even in Ba Sing Se."

The blind girl's milky eyes widened with interest at the merchant's words. Her companion, however, could not believe such things.

"A phantom? Saving people? That's nonsense, with all due respect."

"Then what do you think it is, hmm?" challenged the merchant, a grin spreading across her fine features.

"Well, I…I don't know really."

"Then 'phantom' it is!" shouted Toph, enjoying a good mystery.

Once the exchange of coins was completed, the young ladies departed, the older one tucking the necklace into a small brown pouch attached to her waist.

"So, ya think Twinkle Toes will like it?" the blind girl wondered aloud.

"I hope so. It's not Appa, but..it's a nice thought, no?"

Her small friend nodded, her mind still preoccupied with the story of the 'phantom.'

"I wonder who this 'phantom' person is..Or if he's even real."

"Probably some lunatic who thinks he's a ghost."

_***Next Scene* **_

On returning to the guest home, the young ladies found a determined lanky teen playing with paper cards. His opponent: the lemur bat, Momo.

"Aallrriiight…" Sokka drawled, lower lip puckering in thought. "Try this out for size!"

He slammed down a paper card with a mythical dragon depicted upon it. Momo simply sniffed the said card, looking at the pair of cards held by his long tail. One second passed before the lemur bat possessed a single card with his mouth, and dropped it face-up upon the low table. The lanky young man shouted, pointing an index finger at the damned card.

"Y-You beat _me_? What did I ever do to you to deserve this!"

The lemur bat simply purred, no comprehension of Sokka's words whatsoever.

"That's it; he's lost his mind," Toph remarked bluntly, not surprised by this scene unfolding before her.

Katara shook her head from west to east, scolding her elder brother for such nonsense.

"Sokka, Momo's just a lemur bat. He probably doesn't know what he even put down."

"No, no, he beat me! The Earth King beats the Emerald Dragon! I would've thought a dragon was more powerful, but _nnoooo_…Sheesh.."

The young lady dismissed herself, and decided to enter the lush backyard. The sliding doors were always elegant to touch: smooth, polished dark wood, crème hued paper. _Sigh…_It will be a great pity when the group was summoned by the Earth King, only to leave this wonderful home. She discovered Aang sitting on the wood paneled floor, his short legs elongated over the edge.

"Aang?" said Katara, gently sealing the sliding doors.

He did not respond. He merely nodded.

"Hey…How are you holding up today?"

"Same," a meek response was given. "…What if Appa's..?"

"Aang, don't even _think_ of such things! We will find Appa, I promise you."

An unsettling silence hovered over their bowed heads. Sitting beside the young monk, the waterbender pulled out the necklace from a waist pouch. Cradling the precious stone in her small palm, Katara bestowed the sentimental gift to her dear friend. His large brown eyes took notice, and the solemn expression withering his round features disappeared.

"Oh, wow.." he breathed. "Jade.."

The young monk gently accepted the necklace, and held up the precious stone in the sun's beaming rays.

"Katara, this is great!"

The young lady smiled warmly, bashful towards witnessing an almost forgotten glee.

"It represents good luck. The jade, I mean. I know it's not much, but..we all worry about you."

Aang donned a grin upon his thin lips, still captured by the jade's ethereal verdant hue.

"Thank you, Katara..I'll wear it for luck."

The young boy pulled the necklace over his pale bald head, the stone clashing beautifully with the natural shades of his orange and gold monk attire.

"Oh!" the waterbending maiden's eyes lit with a recollection. "Toph and I heard some stories going around in the marketplace."

"Oh? Like what?"

"There's this dubbed 'phantom' going around, rescuing people. From what a merchant had heard, this phantom wears a strange mask. Pretty odd, huh?"

"A mask-wearing hero?"

He remained silent for a moment. Katara was perplexed by this sudden metamorphosis of expression.

"Aang?" she questioned, concerned.

"Uh..Did this merchant know what the mask looked like?"

"What it looked like?" she reiterated, scavenging her thoughts. "No…No, she didn't mention what it looked it. Why do you ask?"

"No reason. I'm trying to picture this person in my head, that's all."

Shrugging her shoulders, the young lady accepted his answer, figuring that she was simply over-analytical. The monk averted his eyes to the stone fence across the way. Thoughts began to entangle within themselves.

"Alright, Aang, something's bothering you."

"Nothing! I'm fine, really!" he shouted, waving his hands about. "It's just…Um…Well, that story you told me.."

"Yes?" she awaited an answer, crossing her arms before her bosom.

"Well…," he sighed deeply, grasping for the appropriate words. "Remember when I ventured out to find medicine for you and Sokka? Those frogs?"

Katara shuddered, recalling the slimy creatures twitching in her mouth.

"I'm trying to forget."

"Yeah. I was captured. Calm down, Katara! I'm still here, aren't I? Anyway…there was this..person..who wore a blue and white mask, and he saved me from the Fire Nation. He didn't speak a word, but I knew that he...was _very_ _aware_ of his surroundings."

"So, you think this 'phantom' is the same person who rescued you?"

"Maybe.."

Little did Aang know, the waterbender was already devising a plan to meet this "phantom," determined to clear the mystery, and, possibly, thank him.

_***Next Scene* **_

Later that night, the youths were fast asleep in their warm cots; all except for one terribly curious girl. How could Katara sleep when someone was lurking about in Ba Sing Se, who was possibly Aang's savior at one point? Her imagination ventured into a personal realm, where this phantom leapt from rooftop to rooftop, their concealed body long and lean. She pictured the mask to be intricate in design. Blue and white..Blue and white..The colors were reminiscent of her beloved water tribe. 'The Blue Spirit? Huh..Doubtful..Not until I _see _it for myself.' With the graceful movements of an artist and the curious mind of a scientist, the waterbender slipped out through the entrance door, and disappeared into the nocturnal shadows cast by Yue's omniscient milky gaze.

Along for the journey were a piece of parchment and a sharpened stick of charcoal stuffed into a small bag. And, she could not forget her water sac…just in case. She had wished to capture the image of this phantom, and to prove that she had _tracked_ the seemingly imperceptible being. Azure eyes scanned the calm area of the stranded market place. No one in sight, except for a couple of drunks at the doorway of the tavern. Molding her petite body against stone walls, Katara maneuvered with silence into the alleyways, determined and alert. A rational person would reason that it was too dangerous for this young lady to be lurking about this area at this time of night. It was laughable, for Katara was rarely rational when her imagination stole the reins. Oh well, at least her waterbending skills were improving.

"I _will _find him," she mumbled to herself, eyes narrowed in concentration. "I hope he's real.."

A half hour passed on. A stray kitten had dashed by, while a lunatic was mumbling to himself strange musings in a far corner. 'Lovely,' she thought sarcastically. 'Just keep your bending sharp…You're fine.'

Another half hour passed on. Nothing…_Nothing!_ Oh, how frustrated and overtired Katara was! Sitting atop a low roof, the young lady resorted to doodling swirl patterns on the parchment, the black charcoal coating her fingers with night sky dust. She felt somewhat defeated, not finding this phantom. Did he not exist after all? Was the man that Aang spoke of not the one? 'Childish. Simply childish,' she would scold herself mentally.

Cue a rustling about a few blocks away. The acute hearing of a water tribe warrior came into very good use. Turning her head towards the direction of the sound, Katara collected her belongings, and jumped swiftly down to the ground, dashing to seek out the source.

'C'mon, c'mon! Don't miss it!' her thoughts raced, huffing with heated breath. Her limbs were on fire, but she was sure to remain silent in movements. Between a rug shop and a small café, she stopped dead in her tracks, molding her body against a wall. With a slight shift of her head, Katara peered over at the scene.

A young lady around her age was cornered against a wall, a rather tall man eyeing her curved body down like a famished animal. Eyes widening, Katara felt choked at the occurrence. The phantom was nowhere in sight, and this poor girl was about to be harmed! She ground her teeth, refusing to wait for someone to save the victim. 'Forget this. _I'll _save her!'

Opening the water sac strapped to her back, Katara enchanted the water to collect around her hands. Fists formed at her sides, ready to leap forward to tear this barbarian apart. She stifled a squeal, however, once a blur of black and blue swept down from the skies.

The tall man grunted audibly as he was taken down to the ground. The nameless young lady shrieked with surprise, her thin arms embracing her bosom. With movements of a lean acrobat, the blurred figure grabbed a fistful of the man's collar, and lifted his upper body. Leaning his concealed face down to the man's face, the figure huffed dragon's breath into the pitiful countenance that twitched with fright.

"I-I wasn' doin' nothin' to her, I swear!" the man pleaded, holding up his hands in surrender.

A growl reverberated from the figure's hidden lips, a threat without words. To mess with the foolish man, the figure in black released his rough hold of the collar, and unsheathed his twin blades. A deafening ring birthed within the man's ears, the pointed serpent's tongue blades beckoning to pierce his dingy flesh. Sweat permeated at his temples, pupils dilated to mere spots.

"N-no! Don't kill me! Oh, please, have mercy!" he wept like a newborn before the vigilante.

The figure stepped back, allowing the man to rise up to his feet, and run off as far as his fat legs could take him. The young lady was saved, yet she still nursed a fright towards the figure. He turned around, revealing a blue and white mask: The Blue Spirit. Wait…Katara recognized that mask! The Blue Spirit was a myth she had heard of in childhood. The figure seemed to enjoy donning the image.

"Th-thank you..I-I.."

He shushed her gently, an index finger brought to his masked lips. No longer than a second did he dash up a stone wall, performing yet another vanishing act. 'No!' Katara panicked. 'Not yet, buddy!' The waterbender ran back into the alley, trying to keep the figure in sight. He leapt from rooftop to rooftop, his lean body close to disappearing. She was so tempted to shout after him, but that would attract unwanted attention from late-night creepers.

Her chest ached in pain, her legs contracting from the force. Dear La, no, do not stop now! Unfortunately, the young lady came to a sluggish stop, bending over to catch her breath. Loose strands of dark hair stuck to her matte face, breath harsh and hot. Looking up, she realized that he was gone. Disappointment bubbled in her heart, feeling somewhat defeated. 'Wait..there's always tomorrow night. I cannot give up so easily.' Of course, the young lady was too stubborn to accept defeat anyway. This chase only became even more interesting..

Dusting off her powder blue robe, Katara began her way back to the guest home. 'At least I know he poses as the Blue Spirit. I felt rather silly calling him "the phantom," actually…'

_***Next Scene* **_

"Sugar Queen..Hey!...Suuggaarr Qquueeennn.."

A tiny pest sang in Katara's ear. Her face had been partially buried into the feather-stuffed pillow, praying the nuisance would leave.

"We're getting breakfast, c'mon! C'mon, c'mon,c'mon…"

Toph persisted in pushing her friend to near madness, hovering over her.

"Don't make get one of Sokka's smelly shoes. He's pretty damn ripe, if you ask me."

The waterbender shot up into a sitting position at the mention of her elder brother's horrendous odor. She was still groggy from her late arrival last night. Toph merely giggled at the reaction.

"Never fails. No sleep, huh?"

The young lady shook her head, not one for conversation at the moment. This was certainly going to be a looong day..

_***Next Scene* **_

Luckily, Katara was able to fit in a nap midday, excusing herself due to a "spell of insomnia." Of course, the small blind girl figured that the waterbender was up to something quite different. No questions were asked, however.

That night, the young lady had ventured out in hopes of actually interacting with the Blue Spirit. The talk in the market place was even more intense than the previous day! Apparently, the young lady that was saved had spread the word generously, sparing no detail whatsoever. "_He wore this blue and white mask. It was rather frightening, but his mannerisms were proper and cordial. Oohh, I wonder if he is handsome!" _'Handsome?' thought Katara, tittering softly. 'He could have the face of a beast or a deranged mad man for all she knows…Still, it would be nice if he was ravishing, I won't lie.'

The piece of charcoal and parchment paper were left behind. His image had been simpler to recall than she had expected. Lean muscles..lengthy limbs that seemed to go on for an eternity..brash, yet graceful movements. A sigh escaped her parted lips before she could stop herself from fantasizing. 'He has no face, you fool!' Well, he had a face, just not a visible one..

She had caught glimpse of the said figure in black, slithering his way amongst the alleyways. Azure eyes widening to that large gems, Katara dashed down from her makeshift residence at the top of a tea shop. 'I'll get you this time..' she thought with confidence.

This chase of cat-and-mouse had gone on for some time. However, it felt like only a few seconds to the young lady. Heart racing wildly, vision begging to not lose sight of the Blue Spirit, she pushed her curved legs to run faster, _faster. _This figure was unbelievably quick! He seemed to merge with the building-cast shadows beautifully, almost vanishing now and then. Yet…she did not recall any distressed screaming or ruckus nearby. Where exactly was this figure running off to?

Sadly, Katara had lost track of the Blue Spirit. As she hunched over, vainly collecting damp air, she could imagine that blue and white mask grinning madly at her, victorious. She growled in her throat at the defeat. 'I could've…Ugghh.' Gathering enough air in her aching lungs, the watebrender rose up to a proper stance…only to meet a face of a mischievous sort.

"Aah!" Katara shouted, falling back onto her bottom.

Her derriere ached while the strap of her water sac lay pathetically across her elbow. Glaring up at no other than the Blue Spirit, she chastised:

"Don't _do _that! You do know how rude it is to sneak up on someone?"

The Blue Spirit said not a word. He merely shook his head, a breathy chuckle audible from beneath his mask. He nonchalantly pointed an index finger to the fallen young lady, suggesting she had done exactly what she had accused him of.

"Who, me?" she responded with a question, innocence long gone. "I-I've done nothing, you see. You were the one who surprised me. I am not easily scared, so consider yourself lucky to have startled a waterbender, thank you very much.."

Watching the young lady cross her proud arms before her bosom, lower lip puckered in a pout, the figure in black chuckled breathily.

"Do not laugh! I've fallen, and you won't even help me up. Hmph!"

Shameless…_shameless_…She would not even admit to her stalking.

The Blue Spirit had placed both hands upon his narrow waist, his foot tapping on the ground. Katara could imagine a sly smirk gracing his lips. The mask played off this air very well. Admitting defeat, the young lady attested to her deed.

"Fine. I have been following you because..I've heard so much about you in the market place. I-I wanted to meet you. I think you saved a friend of mine not too long ago..and I wanted to see if this was true."

Beginning to rise from the ground, she was stopped, the figure in black offering a hand of assistance. She shyly bid him thanks, and took hold of the warm, gloved hand.

"..He is a small boy," she continued. "..He is the Avatar. He claims that you might be the one who saved him from the Fire Nation. Please…tell me if it was you?"

The Blue Spirit averted his gaze, his head turning to the side. He seemed to be contemplating whether or not he should answer her. Did the Avatar reveal his identity? The waterbender did not seem to know, or else she would be fuming, knowing who he was. It was safe to say that the calm monk spoke nothing of the sort.

Thus, he had nodded.

"You are?"

Unexpectedly, her cheeks flushed crimson, a smile birthing upon her plump lips. She had wished to embrace him tightly, but refrained from this. His presence emitted an almost regal air; perhaps a sudden embrace would not be proper?

"Thank you…More than you know, I am beyond grateful!"

The Blue Spirit bowed his head slowly, his personal way of saying, "You're welcome." He seemed hesitant in his movements, though, unlike his usual conduct. 'Is he reluctant? Why is he so odd? He probably fears of me figuring out of his identity…'

"No worries," she began, placing a small mocha hand upon his toned bicep. "I will not ask for your identity, or tell anyone of this meeting. I owe you that much."

In return, the figure placed a large hand onto her cheek, cupping his palm to match the round shape of her flushing face. Her eyelids were half hooded, lashes framing those blue gems that glistened in the milk beams of the moon. Enchanted…she was simply enchanted with a being with no face…

Before anything else could progress, the Blue Spirit ended the tender moment abruptly, dashing away from the once again surprised waterbender.

"Wait!" she called for him.

And he vanished into the night without a trace.

The young lady embraced herself as disappointment blossomed in her belly. She almost felt silly, thinking he would stay with her. Yet, the tender moment was enough to make her smile for quite some time. Why ruin such a nice thing? Composing herself, still smiling, she ventured off back to the guest home, unaware of a large man in the shadows watching her every move…

He grinned with wicked glee..

"I'll show that damn ghost who's messin' around.." he muttered in a deep, raspy voice.

_***Next Scene* **_

The next few days had been splendid. She could not stop replaying the scene in her mind, a cinematic dream with a faceless figure, donning the black of night and a mythical mask. She was not in love, per say. However, the Blue Spirit did make an appearance or two in Katara's daydreams. 'Come find me in a dream..in my daydream.'

"Katara, are you alright?"

Reality abruptly knocked in the form of a tranquil monk, his huge brown eyes requesting an answer.

"Oh, Aang. I'm fine, just drifting off," the young lady forced a smile to ease her friend.

"That's ok. What were you thinkin' 'bout?" he questioned, his child-like charm enacted via his hands behind back, and his feet rocking back and forth on the ground.

"Heh heh..Erm, nothing really. I think I'm just tired, that's all."

"Me too. You should take it easy before we see the Earth King."

The concerned monk placed a hand upon her shoulder. The pair of youths had been sitting in the backyard, enjoying the small garden of white lilies and gold-kissed blooms.

"Oh, I keep forgetting to tell you! This necklace has really been helping me! It gives me hope that we'll find Appa any day now."

"Does it really? I'm happy to hear that. I was truly concerned about you the other day."

"I'm sorry. It's just that Appa is so close to me, and losing him means losing a part of myself.." the young boy admitted, a tinge of sadness to his voice.

Katara embraced her dear friend, wishing to drain the morbid and paralyzing poison from his selfless heart. She whispered in his ear comfortingly.

"We'll find him.."

Parting from the hug, the young lady mentioned that it was time for her to go to the marketplace. It had been the afternoon, and tonight's dinner was not even decided on yet. She had figured that a surprise would be nice rather than listen to numerous voices arguing over noodles, meat, fish, or soup. 'Can't we just decide on one thing? I'm not a damn mother!'

Before anyone could "offer" their suggestion, Katara made her way out the large emerald and gold front doors quietly. Checking to see if she had enough coins in her leather pouch, she walked down the trimmed path.

Spending some time in the market, the waterbender decided on noodles and vegetable stir fry for the night. Yesterday, slabs of tiger-wolf were served; it only made sense to lighten the load on the red meat. Happy to part herself from the bustling noise of the town, Katara walked back up the path with a few baskets of food. Before she could even reach the peak of the small hill, a large, fleshy hand covered her mouth, forcing her to swallow a scream. The baskets plummeted to the ground with sickening "thuds," the fresh food rolling down the small hill. Of all days, she just had to leave behind her beloved water sac.

'Dear La..'

_***Next Scene* **_

It cannot be…it just couldn't!

There was no water nearby, or even people for that matter…She seemed to be located at some abandoned home in the middle fo nowhere.

Tied and bound, there was no way out of this predicament. She cursed her dependency on nature. Why couldn't she be born superhuman, and save herself? Or even possess better skills..'Shame..' she damned herself.

Her kidnapper had been a surly brute, long black hair dingy with grease and clothes ratty from poverty. His devilish grin made her innards cringe, the yellow teeth hideous and beast-like. He kept speaking of revenge on the Blue Spirit for invading his "precious territory." Unbeknownst to the young lady, this man had been the same man that the Blue Spirit had dealt with not too long ago at a local tavern.

"I was the big shot here until that punk showed up!" he would spit.

Pacing back and forth, he cemented that ridiculous grin onto his thin lips.

"We'll see how he feels when he just couldn't save _one_ girl from trouble. That prick, thinking he sees all. I'm too slick for that little shit, he wouldn't see me a mile away! He'll think twice before messing with my boys..Heh heh, yeah!"

"Please…just let me go," Katara tried to reason, stifling her obvious fear. "Using me will solve nothing. Deal with the Blue Spirit head on like a real man!"

"_A real man_?" the brute reiterated, nostrils flaring. "Sugar, I _am_ a real man..and I'll _prove_ it if I have to."

A shout was all she could combat with, her eyes widening with pure terror. The python grip around her throat was excruciating; she could almost feel the blood draining from her face. The man had lifted her up into the air, her little feet dangling like a forgotten rag doll. Tears welled in her eyes, framing her shaded irises in liquid crystals.

"_Fwup_!" went a thrown stone as it collided with the back of the brute's head.

"Oww! Piece of..What the..?"

Katara had been dropped to the ground. He turned about, fury painting his thin face red. There stood the figure in black, the Blue Spirit, his arms crossed before his toned chest.

"Well, it took you long enough," the brute commented, smirking. "I was just about to have some fun with your lady friend here."

The Blue Spirit uncrossed his arms, his fingers twitching with anger.

"Oohh, did I make you mad, son? Serves ya right! Sweeping in with no name, no face, giving people a show..Who do you think you are? Messing with my boys, making me look like a fool. You'll pay for that."

The man whipped out throwing knife after throwing knife from behind his waist sash, flicking it in the figure's direction. Quick side steps were all that was needed to avoid the blades' deadly kisses, a dodge steering clear of the final blade. The brute cursed under his breath, choosing to unsheathe a rustic blade that hung on his loose belt.

The Blue Spirit's head shook as he chuckled, wagging his index finger from side to side in a mocking fashion. This only enraged the man, charging straight for the figure in black. Just before his blade could even prick the figure's chest, the Blue Spirit leapt into the air, stepping atop the brute's head as he made his way forward.

Turning about, the brute came to be acquainted with twin blades clashing with his own blade.

_Clang..Clang-clang..Clang!_

Force forward..Force back…Feet quick, light on the toes as the pair of men dueled. Katara struggled to free herself from her rope bindings, despising the feeling of helplessness. 'I could be fighting with him! _Damn_ this place for not having water!' She gazed upon the Blue Spirit as he danced about, fighting with a man twice his size. 'He'll be alright. I know he can win this..'

The Blue Spirit faltered slightly, giving the brute leeway to throw him off course. He jutted his elbow across the figure's jaw, an audible "Uhh!" escaping his concealed lips. A kick to the gut, and the figure fell to his bottom, one of his blades flying out from his grip. A dark laugh emitted into the evening air, the man leering over the fallen vigilante. He had stepped onto the wrist of the hand that still held the other blade. The Blue Spirit refused to grunt in pain; this man deserved no such satisfaction.

"Not so tough, eh? Figures, ya punk.." he muttered, a slur to his words.

The brute pointed his rustic blade at the center of the figure's chest, silently questioning if he surrendered. Carefully selecting his actions, the figure in black leaned his upper body back. The brute took this to mean surrender, very pleased with himself. Seconds later, the Blue Spirit had slid his leg across to knock the man off his feet. Jumping to his feet, he had kicked the blade out of the man's hand, seizing it swiftly in his own hand.

The man had been flat on his back when the figure in black roughly placed a foot onto his chest, leaning his body forward to settle his face an inch away from the man's sweating visage. A blade was brought to his throat, heavy breath pouring over the flinching face.

"D-don't hurt me, please! I didn't mean to start nothing! T-take the girl, just don't slit my throat!"

Pitiful…The Blue Spirit could not even laugh at this man. Even death would be a gift. Let him suffer amongst the living..

Slowly, the Blue Spirit distanced himself from the fallen man. Like a cowardly rodent, the brute scurried off, leaving behind his aged blade _and_ his pride.

The waterbender sat speechless, almost forgetting that she was a spectator. Sheathing the twin blades, the figure in black turned around to face Katara. He made his way to the bound young lady, untying the ropes quickly. She whispered her thanks, rising up onto her feet. She wished to question him on how he had found her in the isolated area. However, she figured that he was not the speaking type.

The Blue Spirit had escorted the young lady out of the desolate shack, and walked her home in the manners he knew best: quietly and quickly. Merging along sharp corners, blending into the shadows, avoiding any source of light whatsoever. It was thrilling, actually, to be sneaking around. To redeem herself, Katara would keep up with his pace, climbing over whatever obstacle stood in her way. Once the pair had reached the hill that led to the guest home, Katara had spoken of her wounded pride.

"I wish I could have fought with you. I am not one to stand aside, but there was no water nearby for me to-"

The Blue Spirit had placed a finger to her lips, motioning for her silence. He shook his head from west to east. Katara had translated this to be, "Don't worry. Stop beating yourself over it."

"I'm s-sorry," she said, once he had removed his finger. "I'm very thankful, though. Had you not found me…I don't want to even think about that."

The figure moved his arm, only to retract it. The waterbender took notice of this odd gesture.

"Yes?"

He ended up placing an arm around her shoulders for comfort. She understood, smiling as she looked to the ground.

"Thank you.."

The heat emitting from his body was intoxicating. A gentle fire embraced her curves, sending shivers up her spine and limbs. Katara found herself leaning into his side; his arm tightened slightly around her shoulders. She could hear the twin blades flopping against his back as they ascended the hill. 'What a dream it would have been to fight by his side…If only, if only..'

On reaching the guest home, Katara had reluctantly left his warmth, stopping at the front sliding doors.

"Thank you for taking me home.." she spoke gently, facing the doors. "I know it's not proper to ask who you are…but I do wish I could know the face of the man who saved me. I won't, for even I have secrets. Goodni-"

Her bidding goodnight was incomplete as she turned around to face thin air. He had left her alone at the front entrance. Katara had wondered if he even stayed to listen to her miniature speech. 'There you go talking to thin air again..' she amused herself. Although disappointed, she knew that he had to keep watch of the town. She smiled to herself, knowing that she had a secret friend roaming about in case she found danger once more.

"Goodnight, Blue Spirit.."

_***Next Scene* **_

He sped back to the upper floor of the tea shop where he stayed. The shutters had been left open just a tad for him to quietly open them, and step into the bedroom. Uncle had been fast asleep, his audible snoring nearly shaking the poor walls. Gingerly closing the shutters just as he entered, the young man ripped off his mask, rubbing his weary eyes. He could not help but ponder on his timing in rescuing the waterbender. 'Had I arrived later..she would have been _harmed_. It is Agni-sent that I heard her on my errands. Never mind what she is or where she is from. Somehow I..'

Thoughts were ceased as he stifled a low growl of confusion. Given where he had come from, it would be pure scandal what he had done. His people would not see a girl in danger, but a mere peasant with poor luck. As the Blue Spirit, however, he was someone else..someone with no ties whatsoever. By her soft voice alone, he could have sworn that she fancied him. A bitter chuckle escaped his rosey lips. 'Oh, she would murder me if she knew who I was..'

_***Next Scene* **_

A trip to the tea shop would calm her nerves. Yes, jasmine tea would do just fine to heal her cluttered mind.

Katara had not spoken of last night's occurrence. Had she told of her near danger, she knew that her elder brother especially would seek to castrate whoever threatened his sister. She was safe, and that was all that mattered. Lucky was the young lady, for she had gained a guardian in the Blue Spirit. 'How had he known?' she wondered, still shocked. 'No one could see me from that hill. It is away from the market! No one was around..at least, I don't think anyone was around..Maybe he _is_ mythical..'

Slightly fibbing that she went to pick up food from the market, the waterbender made her way to the tea shop, which was crowded with pleased customers. She felt so foreign standing amongst crowds of people in emerald and gold robes, even beige clothing. Well, she will just have to wear her powder blue warrior robes with pride!

Within a single second, Katara dropped her belongings flat on the floor as she captured sight of the waiter at the back counter. That _scar_..that damned _scar_!

"_Zuko?"_ she whispered.


	10. Stick Boy and Match Girl in Love

_**Author's Note: **This is the fastest update I've ever done, lmao. :x Thanks so much to those who reviewed the lastest piece! I'm trying to get back into Avatar. I really do miss the characters (not just Zutara). _

_This was meant to be humorous...then sensual...then back to humor. It was fun. :3 I love torturing poor Zuko. _

_This is "Stick Boy and Match Girl in Love" for **Just Nine Letters**! _

_~Much love_

**_Disclaimer: _**_The poem was written by Tim Burton. I do not own AtLA characters. _

* * *

_**Zutara: Stick Boy and Match Girl in Love**_

_Poem: Stick Boy and Match Girl in Love. The poem explains itself. _

_"**Stick Boy liked Match Girl**_

_**He liked her a lot**_

_**He liked her cute figure**_

_**He thought she was hot**_

_**But could a flame ever burn**_

_**For a match and a stick?**_

_**It did quite literally;**_

_**he burned up quick."**_

_AtLA Universe: __Season 03, the "Ember Island Players" episode_

* * *

This wasn't right…this simply wasn't _right_.

He did not intend for this to happen. Only a quick swim in the ocean, that's all…something refreshing after firebending practice with the young monk. He found himself at a halt behind a large palm tree before he even realized it.

There she was, frolicking in the turquoise waves, a darling nymph with blue eyes and café au lait flesh. The waterbender was clad in her undergarments which consisted of a white bandeau to conceal her small, yet full breasts; knee length white leggings to outline her curved warrior's legs; and a white sash at her small, feminine waist. Her hair, wild as a russet silk forest, framed her round face, cheeks flushing rose.

"_Damn_ you, Zuko…Uugghh, _damn_ that water tribe wench!" the prince cursed to himself. "Stupid, stupid…Curvy..Girl.."

One could laugh heartily at the young man's flustered state. After all this time, clashing with the ferociously stubborn, yet charming young lady throughout the past year...the dear banished prince was hidden behind a tree, staring at her womanly blossomed figure like the "peeping tom" that he was.

Should he just nonchalantly make an appearance? "_Oh, Katara. I didn't know _you _were here!" _'Yeah right..You, the _amazing actor_ with the stupid stutter. For Agni's sake, stop staring at her like som-'

"Is someone there? Hello?"

_Ack!_

Golden eyes widened with terror, a lower lip quivering. 'Think fast! Do something!'

Clearing his throat audibly, Zuko presented himself with false apathy. Donning only his scarlet pants with a deep maroon waist band, the young man composed himself before Katara.

"It's just me. I, uh…stopped to admire the sky before..going for a swim."

"Oh.." she mumbled, cocking a thin eyebrow. "How very artistic of you. I heard mumbling or something for a moment. I guess that was you?"

"No…I mean, yes," Zuko sputtered, his façade slowly withering. "I was thinking aloud…you know, what I should teach Aang in his next lesson."

She was quite puzzled. Why was Zuko acting so strange? Every word spoken seemed to be a difficult task for him to complete. Oh well. The young lady dismissed it.

"Well, I hope my presence doesn't deter you.." Katara spoke, her voice composed.

"Not at all," the prince replied in a heartbeat.

"Then come and swim, silly."

Her smile had been whimsically sweet. The waterbender dashed back into her aquatic sanctuary, leaving the young man speechless. 'I can do this. I'll be fine. I am an honorable man…I am an honorable man..' His golden eyes absentmindedly drifted downward to Katara's rounded bottom, which protruded enough from beneath the white sash for the prince to take notice. 'I am a _stupid_ man..'

Making his way to where the waves broke upon the sun-kissed sand, Zuko found a decent spot to sit down, aching limbs popping. A groan escaped his lips as he leaned backward, lying flat on his back. A well-deserved comfort had been achieved in the warmth of the sand. A lick of the cool waves gracing his pale feet was a lovely relief from the heat. Not one to tan very well, the pale prince made note to not remain in the sun for too long. However, he could not deny its healing touch on bare flesh, happiness blossoming within every cell. Unbeknownst to him, a pair of azure eyes lay upon him as well.

'Did he have to just lie there? In front of me? _Shirtless_? _Really,_ Zuko, you are mindless!' The young lady busied herself in the ocean, paying no further mind to the resting fire prince. 'No need to oogle him like a piece of meat. He had just become a dear friend not too long ago. Why strain that with lust?' Her rationalization was proper, conservative. Although…the young man did have scrumptious toned lines along his torso; lines that were begging to be traced by her mocha fingertips. 'Enough! A friend is a friend. Prove it to yourself.'

Thus, Katara splashed crystal waves as she walked over to the reclined young man. She decided to sit beside him, enjoying the afternoon rays of the sun as well.

"Are you awake?" she whispered, seeing that his eyelids had been sealed shut.

He appeared rather peaceful, no tension whatsoever upon his smooth, pearl white visage.

"Yeah," he rasped. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason. I didn't wish to startle you."

"You're fine…Erm, _it's _fine..for you.." Zuko edited his words with slight paranoia.

The young lady tittered, shaking her head as she reclined against the sand. Zuko could feel bits of her russet hair tickle his arm. He did not object. As waved and untamed as it appeared, her mane was rather soft. His eyelids remained sealed, regulating his breath, preventing it from quickening. Small talk had been made amongst them.

"So..I recall you saying that the Ember Island Players butchered precious plays?" questioned the young lady.

"Well, not _all_ plays, but I personally felt that numerous times. 'Love Amongst the Dragons' was meant to be a theatrical masterpiece, and the players just turned it into some tawdry, melodramatic show. I won't even call it a 'performance;' it was not worthy enough to be referred to as such. It has been years since I'd last seen a show of theirs, so perhaps more proper actors were cast. Sorry if this dampens any excitement you had.."

Cracking open an eyelid, Zuko saw that the waterbender had been turned over on her side, facing him. Her head was propped up by a small hand, elbow digging into the sand. He was taken aback slightly; her face had been mere inches away from his own. Were friends usually this close? Such a pondering was sad, considering the prince did not have many friends in his mere seventeen years of life. A flush of the cheeks threatened to spread across his face.

"You're quite the critic," she chuckled, her eyes crinkling from laughter.

A partial smile graced the prince's thin lips, not sure on how to respond to the observation.

"I'm…picky?"

"Absolutely!"

Unexpectedly, he found himself grinning at her boldness. He could not recall-…Actually, he _never _experienced a moment with the young lady in which they exchanged an open, even amusing, conversation. Perhaps the flames once raging amongst them had finally simmered. Well, almost..

A silence had been birthed once her laughter had eased. Her plump, rosey lips were parted slightly, her eyes glistening like hidden gems unearthed from a forgotten mine. Whisps of hair stuck to her matte face, framing her round features sensually. A ball of air was caught in Zuko's throat. He could feel his own lips parting, breath suddenly shallow.

He didn't know why, but he edged closer, not even half an inch away from her lips.

And she did not back away…or even falter.

Hot breath mingled, hearts raced. Each flustered youth consoled a violent heartbeat, clashing in the confines of a porcelain cage. Famished…simply _famished_.

However, an unexpected visitor made itself known to dear Zuko…

Stuttering madly, the prince forced himself off of the sand, turning his back to Katara immediately.

"I-I have to go. I just..I just remembered that I have something to take care of."

The young lady averted her eyes, a flush spreading upon her face.

"I underst-stand. I have to get started on dinner. Yes! Dinner!"

Turning his head to the side, the young man nodded rapidly, agreeing without even properly listening to her "excuse."

"Right, right. Uhhh..I'm going now..I'll..see you later!"

He was already lost amongst the palm trees before Katara could even get to her feet. That moment…where did that _come _from? Dismissing any further thinking on the subject, she took note of Zuko's peculiar posture as he disappeared.

"Why is he hunched over like that?" she mumbled.

Oh…if only she knew a young man's woes.

_***Next Scene* **_

Makeshift crystal catacombs were composed of painted stone and various pieces of cloth. Upon the stage, a scene unfolded between a voluptuous woman and a slender, sinister man. It had been Ba Sing Se, and the pair had been trapped within a crystalline prison. However, the actors did not portray upset youths. It was quite the contrary as a smirk curled upon the woman's scarlet painted lips.

"I have to admit, Prince Zuko…" she spoke in a husky breath. "I really find you quite attractive."

The man scowled, crossing his legs in his seat upon the mock crystals.

"You don't have to make fun of me," he spat, turning his head away rather melodramatically.

"But I mean it," she insisted. "I had eyes for you…since the day you captured me."

"Wait..I thought you were..?" he did not finish his sentence, turning to face the woman before him, exposed eye heavily hooded (he wore a mask to conceal the other eye…the wrong one, mind you).

"No one needs to know," she giggled sickeningly.

Up in the balcony, bathed in shadows, the real Zuko and Katara blushed madly, separating from each other as far as possible. The sound of a wild heartbeat reverberated in the prince's ears. He bowed his head, his large pale hands pulling at his disheveled hair.

'Dear Agni, why must you _hate_ me?'

* * *

_~ read & review_


	11. Batman Returns

**Zutara- Batman Returns**

* * *

_Film:_ Batman Returns. Batman encounters a costumed woman, Catwoman, with her own motives. They initially clash, both individuals being strong-willed and all. However, Batman and Catwoman secretly harbor an attraction towards each other. Their paths continue to cross.

_AtLA Universe_: Season 3. The Painted Lady episode. Occurs shortly after Zuko faces Iroh in his prison cell.

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own familiar plots and lines from AtLA.

**Author's note at the end!

* * *

This new village was rather beaten down and tawdry compared to Ba Sing Se. No matter. This only fueled his thirst for redemption as he lovingly caressed the hilt of one of the twin blades strapped to his back.

Donning the black abyss of night upon his body, the Blue Spirit was perched upon a tank, a putrid stench prickling his nose. Not even the mask could deflect that damned scent! Of course, a Fire Insignia branded its metal face. 'Well done, Father,' he thought with bitter sarcasm.

This was an impromptu shift of vigilance. He had overheard a meeting to expand the factories in the Fire Nation colonies. A fishing village was located near a prominent factory, but the people were dismissed of their human value. A village…Did he not torment a village once? Even set one ablaze with his bare hands? His heart was squeezed by the skeletal hand of regret, his anguish spilling forth over his past deeds. 'That man is dead to me,' the Prince would think.

A pang of eagerness shot through his veins, aching like a drug addict without the chemical relief. The night was calling him, and he knew there would be bastards lurking about this damn world. At least he could do something about it. Ba Sing Se was just not enough.

The day-to-day persona began to wither once the young man slid that mythical face over the hot flesh of his face. Somehow, "Prince Zuko" was not enough for him. As the Prince, he could do nothing but redeem himself before his father and his nation. Initially, he thought that this was the path meant for him. He could not have been more wrong. Thus, the Blue Spirit was born again, and the night was his to conquer.

Eyes scanning the area, the dark figure sought out any crew men or guards that would be present near the tanks. In such a downtrodden village, he did not expect the security to be too tight. Still, it was best to observe before taking action. Now, what to do about this sewage?

Something soft and white drifted in his peripheral vision, capturing his attention. From afar, it appeared to be some heavy mist lurking about. A closer look, however, revealed it to be a figure dressed in waving maroon sashes, the face concealed by a thick white veil. From behind the mythical mask, his eyes widened. 'What in Agni…?'

The figure appeared to be carrying some covered pots branded with the Fire Insignia. Fire Nation supplies! What was this figure doing?

Leaving behind the tanks of the factory, the Blue Spirit leapt onto numerous sewage pipes. 'I'll come back for them later,' he thought. Without a sound, he made sure to remain light on his feet, his weight distributed on the balls of his feet and throughout his muscular calves and thighs. He did not wish to stop her actions; just observe her. It had to be a woman. From what he was able to study of her appearance, she was petite, and her hands were delicately feminine. Her hips swayed side to side as fluidly as the sea. There was some red paint on her face, but the Blue Spirit could not make out the details.

A fox-rabbit in the shadows, the Blue Spirit tailgated the mystical woman into the fishing village. Dear Agni, these people lived in filth! 'Don't get distracted,' he scolded himself. 'Focus on your motives.' The strange figure had dropped off the covered pots to a nearby hut. There were more supplies at this hut branded with the Fire Insignia. 'She's been thieving the supplies for these people. How would she know where to find them? How did she even pass the guards?' Amongst his fluttering pondering, one thought had shouted the loudest within his mind. 'She has valuable information.'

Time for interrogation. He simply had to know!

Ducking beneath tattered awnings of merchant stands, the Blue Spirit retained sight of the flowing white veil and maroon sashes. The twin blades remained dormant in their sheaths upon his back. There was no need to intimidate the woman. The silent chase came to an end once the mystical woman was far enough from the broken down residences. Witnesses were not welcome. A shuffle step and a smooth slide brought the Blue Spirit before the mystical woman, a gasp audible from her red lips. For a moment, her small hands were brought up for combat. He chuckled deep in his throat. 'She's certainly not a delicate flower.'

"Uhh,' the woman breathed, tension in her voice. "Please, do not harm me. I am only helping these poor people."

A strange accent bestowed a melody to her voice. It was breathy and soft, reminiscent of a maiden in a fairytale. Her head was kept down slightly, her face further hidden away beneath the veil.

The Blue Spirit was not one to speak, but, for the sake of gaining an ally with valuable information, he created an impromptu voice to accompany the mask.

"What do you know the factory here?" a deep rasp reverberated within his throat.

"The factory?" she reiterated, her fists lowering to her sides. "I can certainly tell you that it is killing these people. Look how filthy the water is! How does the Fire Nation expect this village to survive? Or do they not care at all?"

"The latter is more applicable."

"Just as I presumed."

"You stole Fire Nation supplies. Where did you find them?"

"That is my secret. Why should I trust you?"

"I'm here for the same reason: to be rid of this factory. As much as you wish to help these people, bringing them food can only work for so long, and you are wasting time. Investigate the main problem first. You must rid of the source of this mess: the factory."

"Don't you think that I know this? I haven't devised a plan, or even know where to begin. Bringing food for these people will at least carry them on into the next day."

The Blue Spirit nursed the flame in his belly that wished to further argue. However, this was not benefitting him at all. Nothing was being done at this moment. Crossing his arms before his broad chest, he lowered his head in contemplation.

"I see that we do not trust each very other very well. I don't blame you for this, for I don't even know what you are. I assume you are human?"

She neglected to answer on purpose.

"Fine, I respect your silence. However, if we both wish to be rid of the factory, then we must work together, and find a way to annihilate it."

The woman raised her head to look him in those black holes for eyes. A vertical slit of the veil revealed her face. The red he had seen earlier was actually painted markings decorating her round face. Her eyes were as blue as the deep lagoon, and wide as the precious moon. This woman was lovely, even ethereal with the gauzy white veil. The tattered edges gave her an ancient feel, the lengthy, flowing sashes donning the regality of a queen. It was an interesting contrast to the persona that the Prince had taken on: a frightening jester with a wide grin, teeth ground sharp, and eyes glowing a luminescent black.

"I wish to join you, but I really must retrieve more supplies. The pots of rice are not enough for the amount of people in this village."

There was no way to change this woman's mind! Stubborn as a damn lion-ox. It was logical to investigate the factory itself! No matter. It wasn't worth getting upset over.

"As you wish. I'll be in the factory. I'll look for weak points and inform you on guard schedules and areas of use at a later date. Meet me here in three days. I'll need an extra pair of hands."

"It is settled then. Whether you agree with me or not, I'll continue to provide for these people. I will meet you on my own time. When you are ready for me, come find me," the mystical woman instructed.

The Blue Spirit nodded, deciding not to argue with her firm convictions. Neglecting a polite "goodbye," the figure in black dashed off and up onto a merchant stand, quickly grasping the edge of the roof of a low building. The woman could have blinked twice, and he would have already disappeared. Dusting off her sashes of the dirt, she mumbled to herself; half-amused, half-vexed.

"I can see you're still theatrical," she said, her accent suddenly missing.

* * *

The three days had passed on, and Zuko was already down to business. It was difficult trying to depart from the kingdom. The source of this difficulty took on the appearance of a tall, slender young woman with a dreary face. His excuse was poorly conceived, as well as poorly received by Miss Mai. She had accepted his excuse and bid adieu, but her face clearly communicated her utter irritation towards him. She had accused him of the age-old complaint of men from women: "You never take me out to nice places."

Another discussion for another time.

The vigilante had already been in the factory, expertly avoiding the minimal security measures present. He swore that the dumbest of the guards were given the dullest jobs. He was sure this was intentional. In this case, he didn't complain. This served him well in investigating the area further. A couple of guards had been tied up already, hanging from the ceiling by one of the Blue Spirit's many chains. He was sure to knock these men out so as not to allow them to scream. Wouldn't want that.

As he delved deeper into the mechanical monster, bound by rusted pipes, the Blue Spirit recounted each weak point noted. The past three days were meant for him to familiarize himself with the place as best as he could. In order to bring this factory down to rubble, he had to understand everything about it from the inside out. 'Ok, I know this is run by machines. No Fire Nation individual would work like a dog-boar here. The villagers aren't employed here either. This could work in my favor. There cannot be a simple switch to just stop the production of metal. There's no way it would be that simple. I need to locate the heart of the system.'

The vigilante hypothesized that an explosion would break down the machines, and bring the entire place down with them. But where? Where was this sweet spot? And how would he execute such a dramatic plan? Venture further down the fox-rabbit hole, of course.

Soon enough, he came across floor vents that were bound to lead to the power source. He carefully loosened the bolts of the cover plate with a bit of fire bending. Not enough to melt the metal, but just enough to loosen the grip, and plop out the pesky things. He quietly removed the plate and set it aside. Crouching down to his knees, he settled his way into the newfound entrance.

The claustrophobic vent was stuffy and scorching with heat. The Blue Spirit could feel sweat trickling down the back of his neck, soaking the black material. He moved slowly so as not to make a ruckus with the clanging of his swords bumping against the walls. The end had come, and the vigilante came to see the liquid fire pools and the enormous metal containers hanging by chains. This manufactured hell was run by machines indeed, each segment as grand as the next. Off to the side, on an upper level, were tanks blossoming with numerous pipes. Not a human in sight monitoring the machines. Probably a check-in guard from time to time to ensure that nothing is overpowered.

'That's it!' the Blue Spirit had conceived an idea. 'Overpower the machines!'

* * *

Enough information was obtained. Now was the time to seek out that woman, and inform her of her time to participate. Why this choice of words? The young man beneath the mask would never directly ask for help. Him? Ask for help? No, certainly not! Once was enough, thank you very much. As swift as a fox-rabbit, the Blue Spirit was one with the shadows, cast by monstrous metal. He left the industrial wasteland behind him. He was not sure where to meet the mystical woman, but he was positive that she would be located in the village. Funny, he was so terrible at tracking down the Avatar as the Prince. And yet, as the Blue Spirit, he was an analytical genius with an inborn compass.

Perched up on the highest roof available, he scanned the area before diving into the crooks and crannies of the dusty area. No veiled woman could be found. 'She should be here. Where is she? I don't like to be kept waiting.' A gust of wind brushed his back forcefully. Turning about quickly, hot on his feet, his fists were ready for combat at the sudden stimulus. No enemy was to be found. However, he discovered that it was a small boy that had caused this. 'Damn brat, who the-?!'

Wait! There was the woman! Down below!

The Avatar was chasing her.

"Hey, wait up!" the boy shouted. "I just want to talk to you!"

"Are you absurd, kid?" the Blue Spirit grumbled under his breath.

Sliding down the wall of the clay house, he tailgated the chase with appropriate distance. It took him away from the village and all the way to the surrounding mountains. Swimming as fast as he could, the Blue Spirit managed to climb up on a low surface, dashing down the pathway of rocks. With what little dust clouds the woman left behind, he was able to track her down.

Concealed behind a huge boulder, he listened in on her conversation with the boy.

"You seem familiar," the boy said.

"A lot of people say that," the Painted Lady said, avoiding the comment as best as she could.

"No, you really seem familiar."

'Let it go, Avatar,' thought the vigilante, irritated by the boy's pestering.

"Look," the Painted Lady's tone sounded weary. "I really should get going. I have to meet with someone."

'Yes she does. Now leave!' There was silence for a moment until a forceful gust of wind could be heard. Airbending, perhaps. The boy gasped soon after.

"Katara?!"

'What?!' Now the vigilante had to steal a glance at the situation. 'Katara?'

"Hi, Aang," she said in defeat.

"You're the Painted Lady! But how-"

"I wasn't at first."

She paused for a moment, wringing her hands against the woven straw hat.

"I was just trying to help the village. But, since everyone thought that's who I was anyway, I guess I just kind of became her."

The vigilante felt an unfamiliar warmth in his chest as he drank in the sight of Katara's downturned gaze. She looked like a humble maiden with flushed cheeks and flowing rags.

"So you've been sneaking out at night. Wait, is Appa even sick?"

"He might be sick of the purple berries I've been feeding him, but, other than that, he's fine."

Her smile returned, eyes twinkling at her little prank.

"I can't believe you lied to everyone so you could help these people."

'Oh, for Agni's sake! She helped people, leave her be!' The Blue Spirit stifled any frustration bubbling in his chest.

"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have."

"No, I think it's great!" the Avatar finally gave in to admiration for her nightly escapades.

Katara's cheeks flushed as red as her paint. Without realizing it, the Blue Spirit smiled from behind his mask.

"Well, if you want to help, there's one more thing I have to do."

"What is it?"

Katara had explained how it was planned to bring down the factory. She did not reveal the Blue Spirit's whereabouts, but instead referred to him as "an outside source."

"Are you sure we can trust this source?" the Avatar questioned with crossed arms.

"Believe me, he knows more about this system than anyone here."

Instructing that he meet her on the roof of the factory, Katara had stayed behind. She looked toward nothing in particular as she called out, "I know you're here."

Out came the vigilante from behind the boulder, standing his full height of five feet and ten inches. He crossed his arms before his broad chest.

"So, we meet again. You seemed to have learned a thing or two from me."

"You could say that. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you that it was I who was under the veil."

"No apologies. It's not like I'm going to share secrets with you anytime soon either."

Katara smirked at his quick wit, cradling the straw hat in her hands.

"I deem that's only fair. I'm assuming you heard Aang and me talking about the factory?"

"Yes. I appreciate you keeping my existence clandestine. I'm not so sure the Avatar is comfortable with me working undercover."

"He'll get over it," Katara assured with a wave of her hand. "The wellbeing of these people are more important now."

"From what I could gather, the heart of the factory is where you must break down the machines. What affects the heart, affects the body. You and the Avatar are better able to accomplish this if you work together. You and the Avatar execute this plan while I handle the guards."

"On your own? But-"

"As much as I'd like to continue this conversation, I insist we get the job done. Now."

Raising her eyebrows, Katara was rendered speechless by the masked man's cool assertiveness. She was accustomed to delivering the orders in her group of friends. To be bossed around by another person, a stranger no less, was just not sitting well with her.

Before she could retort with the flaring of her nostrils, the Blue Spirit dashed from the rocky surface and dove from the edge into the black ocean below.

"H-hey!" Katara sputtered, running to the edge of the rocky surface with waving arms. "You could at least show some manners! You rude..incessant...person!"

No response was given to the hot tempered waterbender.

The night had been a long one. Aang and Katara had spent most of the night trying to overpower the machines, spilling over containers of hot liquid and jamming generators to the max. The Avatar actually found this mission fun, cackling like a child as he tossed around machines innards for the hell of it. Katara was amused by his simple glee, finding humor in the dullest of times. She found herself wondering if the Blue Spirit was alright handling the guards. So far, no one had discovered their mischief.

It had been morning when the pair had returned to their group of friends.

* * *

To the dismay of the Avatar and the benders, Fire Nation soldiers had arrived to the village, having received alerts on the destroyed factory. It was figured that the village was to blame.

To summarize the morning's events: the heroic group rushed over to aid the impoverished people. Katara was dressed as the Painted Lady to ward off the Fire Nation soldiers, making a dramatic entrance with thick fog and smoke. Success was achieved as the Fire Nation soldiers evacuated the village. On noticing the smudged paint on Katara's heart shaped face, the villagers were disappointed that their beloved Painted Lady was just a "colonial girl."

Despite this fact, Katara had made a notable point clear.

"Yes, all I wanted to do was help you. However, you cannot wait around for someone to enter your life and fix your problems. You must help yourself, and you alone can do such a thing."

With the wisdom came applause. Thanks to Toph's amateur ventriloquist abilities, the villagers came up with the idea to clean up the river. It was the perfect time to be rid f the sludge and pollution.

Katara began the process by bending sludge out of the river, curling her fingers and waving her lithe arms about. She stopped her motions midway once a swift shadow captured her attention. Atop the roof of one of the huts stood the Blue Spirit, saluting the young lady once she met his gaze. Katara smiled warmly at him. She was so moved by his help that she blew him a kiss. Amusingly enough, the masked man faltered in his usually stiff stance, quickly disappearing from sight. Little did she know, the young man was grateful for the mask concealing his flushed cheeks.

'Damn you, peasant,' thought Prince Zuko.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_ Hello! It has been a long time since I've written for this fandom. A marathon of the Last Airbender over Thanksgiving break had rekindled my love for the series, as well as for Zutara. I do apologize that I abandoned this piece for so long, but my personal life has been hectic. I hope you understand. Thank you to those who have read and reviewed, I am truly happy that you are entertained! I appreciate it a lot.

Anyway, I believe this Batman Returns piece was for Zuko Halliwell. I hope you enjoy! Sorry for the loss of connection. I hope you understand!

Let me know if you readers are still interested in this collection. I have finished a piece for Big Fish that warmed my heart, and I hope it does the same for you. The installment after Big Fish will take a while (I'm trying to play with Jet as Beetlejuice).

If you like affairs and Voltron Force, please check out my fic "And Love Said No." :)

~Take care


	12. Big Fish

_**Zutara: Big Fish**_

* * *

_Film:_ Big Fish. A young man grows weary over his father's tall tales. Unfortunately, the father becomes rather ill, becoming bedridden. As the father's health deteriorates, the son begins to listen. In the end of the film, he finds truth in his father's stories.

_The Last Airbender:_ post Season 03. This does NOT follow the Korra universe, so this is AU.

Disclaimer: I do not own AtLA or Big Fish.

* * *

A young man leans his back against a lengthy wall of gold. He sighs with frustration, rubbing his weary eyes as if this night would erase from existence with the motion.

No. Still present.

Did he really have to go back into that tea room? Well, he did leave his fiancé behind. He probably should return to her side after leaving her with his parents. Just as he entered the tea room, the young man noticed her perked ears listening intently to the stories being told by his father.

Father…The stories…Oh, what madness! The same damn stories he has heard since birth: the extravagant tale about how Father met Mother, nearly burning down her village; the tale of how Father was dead set on capturing Uncle Aang, sailing the seas like a mad pirate; the tale of when Father and Mother were masked vigilantes. However, the story of when Mother knocked Father on his bottom with just a crack of a water whip: that he could believe. The young man was tempted to argue whether or not the remaining stories were indeed true.

Foolery.

Suckling in the jasmine-tinged air, he advanced toward the maroon velvet love seat where his fiancé sat. Looking straight ahead, he was greeted by familiar family portrait from across the room. It was rather large, so it was difficult to miss. His twin siblings, Kaya and Kanna, stood on each side of Mother's lovely seated form. The girls took after Mother, what with their mocha skin and wavy hair. Their eyes, however, were clearly Father's golden embers. Mother was not exactly young in this portrait. Despite the faint wrinkles around her eyes, she was still as charming and lovely as she ever was. Father stood tall behind the phoenix-winged chair that Mother sat in. His hair was long and black, the top knot perfectly wound. Strands of grey were present at his temples and sideburns, giving him a distinguished charm. Last, but not least, was little Iroh, nestled in Mother's arms and wrapped in gold silk. His black hair was messy and his blue eyes were wide with curiosity.

Iroh was just an infant when this portrait was painted. He was named after his father's dear uncle, a former Fire Nation general and the famed "Dragon of the West." Father claimed that Uncle Iroh was known for his fire breath, bursting forth from his wide mouth like hell's rivers. 'Sure, he breathed fire. Firebending sources from the hands and feet, not the mouth.'

"Iroh, dear, don't stand in the doorway," Mother said lightly, motioning with her small hand for her son to sit down. "Your father is in the middle of telling Leila about the time when he developed a rather 'vigilant' hobby."

"Oh, the 'Blue Spirit,'" Iroh recalled in a deadpan voice.

"Now don't get too excited," Father delivered dryly, noting his son's lack of enthusiasm.

Even in old age, Father's smirk never faltered in its sarcastic charm. A stern Fire Lord by day, a sharp-witted old man by night. As for Mother, she was known for her big heart, as well as her big temper. It is a wonder how the Fire Lord and Lady have not murdered each other by now! From what Iroh had been told more than enough times, his parents had fought tooth and nail in their youth during the war. It wasn't until towards the end of the war that they had stopped clashing, and started listening to one another. Mother would chuckle at how many times she had defeated Father in a bending duel. Father would just grunt, crossing his arms. He never did enjoy admitting his defeats, especially when the defeat was by the hands of his Lady.

Sitting beside his future wife, Iroh had hoped that Leila did not think his parents were…well…odd.

On the contrary, the young woman was intrigued by the Fire Lord's stories, sputtering question after question like an ever so curious child. She would occasionally glare at Iroh for dismissing the stories. What she did not understand was that he had heard these tales many times before. Growing up, he had known his parents to be rather uneventful, except the occasional argument or two with the clashing of elements.

Stroking his long grey beard, Father looked up to the ceiling as he recounted his days of being a masked vigilante.

"Yes, I remember now…I was a troubled young man, unsure and obsessed with his destiny. There were many things I had done that I regretted, even felt ashamed of. Of course, being young does not mean having the answers to life. So, I found myself donning a new face, trying to redeem myself not as the banished prince, but as the Blue Spirit."

"Ever the Theatrical King," Mother chuckled, shaking her head.

"Ahem," Father cleared his throat, glaring at his amused wife. "As I was saying, I started off by attacking guards, hanging them with chains from the ceiling for fun. Of course, security was not as proficient in the Fire Nation as it is today. Once I gained some experience under my belt, I sought after larger projects. At the time, I was determined to capture the Avatar, who is actually Iroh's Uncle Aang. General Zhao, a jackal of a man, had captured him. So, I ventured to set him free. Thinking that I was to withhold Aang as prisoner, I could not do the deed in the end. I did not understand it at the time, but I was experiencing a change of heart. I set Aang free. From what I was told years later, he had known that it was I who had saved him. He had kept mum about this.

I continued masquerading as the Blue Spirit, breaking down Fire Nation factories, settling undercover disputes in Fire Nation colonies. Somehow, this alternate persona had stayed with me, even when I had decided to return to my father, claiming that I had murdered Aang when I had not. I wanted acceptance from a man that was not capable of love. Soon after, I still nursed a gaping hole in my heart. I still felt unworthy. So, I played the role of crown prince by day, and the Blue Spirit by night. Royal subjects would ask me, 'Prince Zuko, why are you so weary? There are bags under your eyes!' I would answer, 'Oh, just training very hard, that's all.'"

"I bet they saw through your fibbing. You were never skilled at lying!" Mother laughed, curling her hand around Father's elbow.

"I was young," Father retorted, rolling his eyes. "It would be foolish to admit the truth!"

Just after shouting, Father coughed harshly, covering his mouth with the sleeve of his gold and crimson robe. Mother patted his back gently, the warmth of her eyes dimming at the sight of her aging husband. Iroh captured sight of her expression. He noticed that Father began to have these frequent coughing fits. Iroh swallowed hard as unsettling thoughts blossomed in his mind. Father was not young anymore. But, the thought of his passing was forbidden; too painful to mull over.

Clearing his throat, Father apologized, and continued his story.

"My last night as the Blue Spirit actually involved my wife, Katara. She had met the Blue Spirit once before, saving her from a large brute. You know, I remember that damned ape-boar. Such a barbarian!"

"He is long gone now, my love," Mother reminded.

"That does not mean I have to remember him with glee," said Father, turning to his wife with a cocked grey eyebrow.

Mother smirked, withholding her words so that Father could finish his story.

"When I had arrived at a small village where a factory had sullied its waters, I had encountered yet another vigilante, The Painted Lady. I had worked with her to assist the distressed village, and ultimately, along with Aang, had broken down the factory. During this time, I found out that the Painted Lady was actually Iroh's mother."

Leila's eyes widened, her smile brightening.

"You worked alongside your future husband?" she questioned enthusiastically, complete adoration warming her round features.

Mother laughed at the young lady's charm, her sapphire eyes twinkling.

"Yes, yes," Mother assured. "I did not think of this at the time, however. Destiny has a sense of humor that way. The man that I once craved to strangle turns out to be my husband. Dear La, I hated you when we first met!"

"I wasn't fond of you either in the beginning."

"Oh please. I recall you flirting with me when those pirates captured me."

"Your idea of flirting involves threats and demanding where the Avatar was?"

"I am still here, am I not?"

For the first time that night, Father smiled down at the woman, cupping his large palm over her mocha hand.

* * *

Later that night, Iroh settled into bed while Leila brushed out her waved red locks before the vanity mirror. Her eyebrows knit, the young lady set down the hair brush, mulling over how to formulate her question about Iroh's behavior.

"Dear?" she began with a quiet voice.

"Yes, Leila," Iroh sighed from bed, wrapping the maroon silk sheets around his aching body.

"Why are you so impatient with your father? His stories were very entertaining."

"I have heard those 'entertaining' stories for a majority of my life. Leila, regardless of their banter, they are easygoing people. Father is getting old in his years, and he tends to exaggerate."

"Were you present for any of these stories?" Leila challenged.

"No, not exactly."

"Then how do you know whether or not your father is exaggerating?"

"I just know!" Iroh shouted, becoming frustrated by this argument.

Leila was unperturbed by his raised voice. The Fire Lord seemed like a harmless man. Why be angry with him?

"I just think that you were a little short-tempered with him tonight. That's all."

Despite his beliefs, Iroh was haunted by his fiancé's words even an hour after they had went to bed. Staring at the cherrywood nightstand beside him, the young man pondered over his actions. Father was sickly these days, although he would never admit or show it. What if Father passed away tonight? What if Iroh's final words to Father were mocking sarcasm? As irrational as this thought was, a sick feeling of guilt bubbled in his stomach. Quietly climbing out of bed without disturbing Leila, he slipped his bare feet into a pair of black leather slippers.

He scuffed along the marble floor, opening the large cherrywood door that led to the hallway. Making his way down the hall to reach his parents' bedroom, Iroh felt uncomfortable passing by portraits of past kings and noble generals. It was as if these powerful figures, forever captured on a canvas, were observing the young man, judging him. Being the crown prince, the only son of Fire Lord Zuko came with immense expectations and pressure. He would one day take the throne. What did he know of hardship? Of honor? Iroh sighed deeply at the thought, choosing to stress over his future another time.

On reaching the golden double doors of his parents' bedroom, Iroh quietly knocked on the polished metal, hoping at least one parent was awake.

"Come in," came Mother's soft voice.

Iroh hesitantly entered the large bedroom, finding Mother reading a historical romance, the drapes of the canopy bed pulled open.

"Is something wrong, my son?" questioned Mother, her eyebrows furrowed.

"No, Mother. Nothing is wrong. Um, where is Father? I wish to speak to him."

"Your father is on the balcony, nursing a glass of fire whiskey. He does not listen to me. Drinking such substances will not aid his health! He insists that it alleviates his throat and his nerves."

"Mother, I just wanted to know where he was."

"Oh, right," the woman chuckled. "Me and my tangents."

"Mother," Iroh began to ask a question, only to pause, considering the subject. "Are you scared over Father's ailing health?"

Her deep blue eyes downcast to the silken red sheets, a grim smile spread across her lips.

"I think he'd like to have a word with you," Mother avoided answering Iroh's sensitive inquiry. "He loves you, dear. He tells you stories because he wants you to be proud of where you come from. His childhood was a mess, and only wants the best for you. You can choose to believe his tales or not, but I will say this: we won't live forever. Treasure this time now."

Iroh nodded with a sullen expression. He knew that, deep down, he owed his Father respect. He had never raised a hand to him as a child, or mistreated him for insignificant reasons. Suckling in a deep breath, Iroh made his way to the closed balcony doors. A creak sounded off as he opened one of the doors, meeting the back of Father. A glass of fire whiskey rested on the banister.

"Father? I know that it's late, but may I speak with you?"

Father merely nodded, motioning with his shaking hand for his son to join him. The silence was unsettling for the young man. He twiddled his thumbs as he tried to muster up something to say.

"I'm…I am sorry."

"For what?" Father wondered aloud in his raspy voice.

"I am sure this is no surprise to you, but I never truly believed your stories. They all sounded so-"

"Absurd?" Father smirked, sipping his whiskey.

"Y-yes. The drama, the hardship, the war. I know nothing of that."

"Of course you don't. I made sure to bring you into a peaceful world. Of course, it is natural for the world to undergo immense change and chaos, but I can at least try and give my children the best of the best."

Father's slender hands shook as they rested upon the banister of the marble balcony.

"I was sure not to tell you too much about my own father. I was happy to have you know my Uncle Iroh as your grandfather instead. I did not want that to change. I wanted to somehow erase whatever memories I had of his abuse by standing for everything he was not. By being the father he never was."

"Abuse?" repeated Iroh. "He was a political tyrant. That much I know of. I had no idea that he harmed you."

Father smirked bitterly at his next comment.

"Where do you think I attained this scar from?" he said, pointing to his partially burned face.

Sullen by this revealed truth, the young man downcast his blue eyes to the palace gardens below. Staring at the skillfully arranged fire lilies, Iroh felt remorse over giving Father a hard time over his story telling. Mother was right. He wanted his son to be proud of him, not afraid of him.

"Father, I-"

"It is alright, my son," Father calmly assured, clearing his itching throat. "You are the son of a rather bull-headed woman."

"I can hear you! I'm not that old!" Mother shouted from inside the grand bedroom.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ If you have not seen **Big Fish**, please see it! It is heartbreaking and lovely in both imagery and story. Filming this movie actually helped Tim Burton cope with his father's death. So, I tried to capture the son's frustration and the father's ailing health.

Thank you so much to **AnnaAza**, **Redpony**, **Anewsgirl**, and **Deadsylifer** for their kind reviews! I appreciate it a lot.

~Take care


	13. Dark Shadows

_**Zutara-Dark Shadows **_

_Film:_ Dark Shadows. End portion of the film in which Angelique has final battle with Barnabas. Defeated, she pierces her porcelain chest with her fingers and grabs hold of her heart. She offer her beating heart to Barnabas, who declines with disgust. She was a terrible, jealous witch. Angelique crumbles away like the porcelain doll that she is. No one wanted her heart. Cut to the scene where Victoria (Barnabas's love interest) is still under Angelique's spell to jump off a cliff to kill herself. Barbabas reaches her just as she jumps off the edge. He leaps, falling down with her to the sharp rocks below. He saves her life by turning her into a vampire before she exhales her last breath. He gives her new life as an undead being. They kiss passionately as the ocean collides against their bodies.

_AtLA Universe:_ Season 03, the showdown with Azula

_Note:_ I do not usually add song lyrics to these pieces, but I was moved to tears by a particular song that I wanted to share some of the lyrics with you.

* * *

"I would walk through flames for you

To light a way

I'd light a path for you

and carry you through life

You're my miracle

My angel

You're the light

in my darkest hours

And I'll be fine

With you I can move on

This is our eternity"

_"Eternity, He Said"_ by **In This Moment**

* * *

A vile young woman in scarlet robes struck her only brother to the stone ground, the crackle of lightning as loud as gunshots. The entire battle field reverberated with fright.

"Zuko!"

The primal scream of a waterbender came with the projection of blue daggers in the form of electricity.

A prince falls to the stone ground, welcoming the electricity into his body. If the sacrifice resulted in the waterbending girl's safety, then so be it.

A maniacal chuckle bellowed from the young woman in red. She simply enjoyed the twitching of her brother's limbs, writhing in agony and shock from the attack. It was more than scrumptious to watch that insect fall.

Azula condemned the banished prince to misery since the day she was born. Zuko was weak. Pathetic. And yet, she envied his ability to love and be vulnerable with no fear of consequences. The damned insect! She was royalty, not he! Banish him to the underworld! It only took a peasant girl to inspire him to take the fall.

"For a peasant girl, Zuzu?" she inquired between cackles. "You are incorrigible. You fool. Insects dying for insects. How amusing!"

As expected, the young woman in blue robes ran to Zuko's aid, only to be stopped by a lick of blue lightning. Azula continued to laugh aloud, her body swaying back and forth. The deliverance of lightning had drained the young woman of her essence. No matter. She was pleased by the macabre scene before her.

She reduced her cackle to a deep chuckle within her throat, her wicked grin spreading from ear to ear. Her white teeth glistening with spots of blood, her eyes blazing like the mid-day sun. She wanted the peasant girl before her to fall, just as her weak brother had just done.

But the peasant girl, the brave love that was Katara, said, "I don't think so."

Katara watched in horror as a ring of fire banished her from reaching Zuko's body. The laughter of his vile sister birthed an eruption of emotion in Katara's belly as adrenaline surged through her veins.

Water and lightning? A deadly combination indeed! Now was not a time to panic over the collision of elements. For now, she resorted to dodging the whips of lightning until she determined an open window of opportunity to strike back. 'Wear the crazy wench down,' the young woman planned. 'Only then will she fall.'

Locating some water in a broken down fountain, the young woman conjured the waves of the sea to ride upon. A black widow dressed in scarlet, Azula spiraled the broken columns with her agile legs set aflame. She projected herself to the roof, spurts of fire shooting from her feet. Azula stalked her prey in blue robes, closing in on the peasant girl like the fly that she was. Little did she know, Katara had awaited her in tranquility as she now stood before nearby drain pipes, bulks of rusting chains dangling from her delicate mocha hands.

"Ha! So we play dirty!" Azula shrieked, her feline grin a wild expression.

She surrounded Katara in a ring of fire, the flames dancing like tribal priestesses around the fearless waterbender. She was irked by the peasant girl's unwavering, calm expression. Before Azula could pierce her sharp nails into the young woman's lovely face, Katara manipulated water from the drain pipes. The metal peeled away like fruit to give way to projected rivers. With a batting of an eyelash, the volatile women were frozen in stance.

Katara's arms were elongated at her sides, her bosom puffed out; while Azula extended her dagger-like fingernails, inches away from her opponent's nose. Katara exhaled hot steam through her nostrils, her body cleansed of fear as ice melted into cascading rivers. She eased her way out of the icicle prison, Azula's extended arm unfrozen and hanging in mid air. Quickly, before Azula could firebend her way out of confinement, Katara bound the unfrozen limb with chains. One by one, she shattered the ice on each limb, binding them down so that Azula could not move.

And so the peasant girl bound the wicked young woman to a marble column, still standing even after such a vicious battle. The chains dug into her porcelain skin, turning red with fury beneath the flesh. Drenched with sweat, loose black hair curtained Azula's contorted face, her golden eyes blazing with the desperation of a caged animal.

"You have no heart," Katara growled, staring at the pathetic woman. "You know nothing of love...of family, of friends. You truly are a poor, unfortunate soul."

Suckling in air, her body shaking with dissipating anger, Katara continued her speech.

"..and I pity you. Go ahead and weep in your chains, you witch!"

The black widow that was Azula was sustained, and the proverbial fly escaped the wrath of her sadistic appetite. Rushing to the fallen prince, Katara silently prayed that Zuko did not meet the endless black eyes of the Reaper just yet. 'Please, not now, not today. Do not die on me!'

Kneeling beside Zuko, the young woman stared in horror as the fallen prince lay disturbingly still.

"Why did you do it, Zuko? You stupid ass, don't die on me!" she shouted at his expressionless face. "Stupid, stupid boy. Breathe!"

A glove of water encased her little hand as she placed it atop the gaping wound in Zuko's torso. Desperately, she focused all her intentions to heal his weeping flesh.

"Do not die! I will go with you to the Spirit World if I have to, damnit!"

Without realizing it, her sapphire eyes welled with hot tears, the sight of Zuko's tranquil face blurring. There was no way she was going to lose him. She pushed her abilities harder, her hand glowing a blinding shade of periwinkle blue.

Unable to see through her tears, she did not capture sight of the fallen prince's eyelids cracking open. He rasped aloud, feeling a pleasant chill swarming his torso. Above him was the weeping peasant girl, the girl he once hated for questioning his authority and his status as royalty. Zuko was silenced with shock over Katara's pain.

"You...you're crying over me?" he croaked, amazed at such vulnerability over him.

"Yes, what of it?" she sniffles, ceasing her healing now that the wound appeared significantly better.

Katara was too stubborn to admit to her tears.

"She could have killed you," he spoke quietly, regaining his strength slowly but surely.

"I don't care! I'll be damned if I let that witch get away with hurting you!"

"I've never..ever..had this happen to me. Your heart is stronger than any wildfire burning a nation down."

She smirked bittersweetly at him, gently bringing him up to a sitting position.

"It broke when I saw you dying. You made me cry, you stupid boy."

Zuko chuckled, only to hold his torso in pain. He gazed into those blue eyes, vulnerable and close to shattering before him. In this vulnerability, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. She braved the insanity of his sister to rescue him from death, and cared not for her life.

For the first time, in a very long time, the prince's heart swelled with an emotion he never believed he could express so openly.

"I love you," he whispered, never breaking eye contact. "You've given me my life back, and I will thank you for an eternity."

"I should be thanking you," Katara softly whispered, her tears flowing freely as a smile tugged at her flushed lips.

Several feet away, near the broken down columns, Azula watched the scene unfold before her. The wicked young woman disintegrated into a weeping little girl bound by chains. After everything her brother had done to this peasant girl, she still harbored love for him. As she held him in her lithe arms, he had opened his heart to her.

This was why Azula truly hated her brother. What was it that she hated, you ask?

Zuko had a heart. And it was wanted by another.

No one wanted the heart of vile woman.

* * *

_**Author's Note:** Happy Holidays, everyone! I hope you enjoyed this piece. I am planning on working on some of Burton's poems, with a Zutara twist, as soon as I catch up with my other fic, **"And Love Said No"** (_Voltron Force_ fic). _

_I wish you all the love in the world. Merry Christmas._

_~Take care_


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